The Lonely Rain
by Mrs.Robward
Summary: It's been said that the difference between love and fate is that you can fall in love with anyone, but fate will decide who you'll love in the end. Too bad Bella Swan no longer has any faith in love or in fate.
1. The Lonely Rain

**FAGEtastic Four**

Title:** The Lonely Rain**

Written for:** Jennifer Itlnbrt Garcia / itlnbrt**

Written By**: Mrs. Robward**

Rating**: M**

Summary/Prompt used:** "Ye may have a greater prince, but ye shall never have a more loving prince." Elizabeth I **

**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the facebook group:**

**Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps **

**or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox. **** community/Fagetastic_Four/98339/**

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** NOTHING is mine. Some research was done but I'm pleading for major leniency here as to accuracy, I swear nothing to be factual.

* * *

**The Lonely Rain**

_**May, 2009**_

I slip down farther in my seat praying he doesn't call on me, but I bet he knows that I know all about this subject, but what I bet he _doesn't _know is how it changed my life.

"Bella, you're familiar with Act 3, Scene 5 of The Lonely Reign, aren't you?" Mr. Jacobs asks.

_Dammit! _

Suddenly I know, I'm not prepared enough. His words smack me hot across the face. Their significance, their weight, slowly begins to tug me under. His voice as he reads the narration becomes distant and muffled, like my ears are now submerged under the roaring water. The strong tide thrashes against my heart, as if it wasn't broken enough. I quickly slip under the fog of remembrance and the memories begin to suffocate me. I can't answer. I have no breath to speak. All I can do is feel.

And hurt.

Why is this so difficult to get over?

Just as quickly, a door slams in the hall and I flinch. I snap back into reality—into this here and now that I thrive in.

I take a deep breath and nod, hoping he sees me. My fingers try to turn the pages, but they shake uncontrollably. I slap the book closed. My vision is blurred from my tears trying to leak and my heartbreak trying to break free.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

_Calm yourself. It means nothing anymore. He means nothing anymore. You are fine, Bella._

I blink rapidly and look toward the front. Mr. Jacobs isn't even looking at me, so he doesn't notice how I'm frozen and stiff in my chair.

"Ms. Swan, come up here and read it with me. I'll read the part of Lord Dudley and you can read Queen Elizabeth." He settles in front of the class, back resting against his desk. His book is open in his hands. He waits with a smile.

He's unaware of my current circumstances and oblivious to know how this screenplay, these words, and the memories attached to it, cripple me a little more every single time.

Somehow, my legs work, but they are heavy and numb. My body aches with a love lost; my heart drained from fleeting passion; my soul broken enough to only allow one more love in.

I pick up the book and carry it with me just for show. I know this play, this act, this scene, like I know my own name. I could recite it in my sleep. It still haunts me in my dreams.

I will never forget.

Never.

I stop and watch Mr. Jacobs finger the words as he reads them aloud.

**ACT 3, Scene 5**

***Lord Robert Dudley**: [He grabs her elbow] **"_May I see __thee__ in private?"_**

Mr. Jacobs' voice is soft and mousy, not rich and bold like I prefer. The words don't sound like I remember them to sound.

I don't even have to read the part. I look past Mr. Jacobs and focus on a tree outside. I let the words slip and fall. I let them free and pretend they mean nothing.

***Queen Elizabeth:** [jerks arm away]** "**_**In private?"** _[Laughs] **"_Hast __thou__ forgotten__, __Lord? I am the Queen now, I know not of private any longer." _**

[Move together to left corner of stage]

***Lord Robert Dudley**: [says harshly]**_ "Why would __the__ Queen not take mine hand in marriage? Is my love not worthy of a Queen?"_**

The vibrant reminder surfaces of his presence so close to me as he spoke his lines and his breath, so damp and hot, as it blanketed and rushed over my skin.

And the way he looked at me...

***Queen Elizabeth: _"Stop it! I will not have __thee__ speak to me __as__ so. Love is not the __matter__. __Thine__ wife__,__ however__,__ is." _**

As I speak my voice cracks and tears burn my eyes. I taste the saltwater in the back of my throat.

I don't want to go back there, but standing here saying these words... hearing them being spoken back to me... It's almost too much to bear.

I can't help but remember his eyes under those bright stage lights. His lips wet as he spoke. His hand warm as it took mine…

***Lord Robert Dudley:** **"_My Queen, __mine__ wife is __ill –__ she is dying from malady of the breast and after__ that__ I will not be married. In the eyes of the Church and the eyes of our God, I will be free to marry my one and only true love. I will finally be free to marry __thee__."_**

*******Queen Elizabeth:**_** "**_**_Ahh, wouldn't one think it smart to marry their true love first?" _**[walks to center stage] **"_Thou__ speak__est__ as though marriage is so simple and so easy. I am the Queen of England,__ and__ I __cannot__ marry for love alone, for I am already married to England and __thou hast__ to understand - for me nothing is simple__, __nor easy."_**

[He follows her, takes her hand, kisses her knuckles, and kneels before her]

***Lord Robert Dudley**_**:**_** "_Thou__ may find a greater prince, but __thou__ shall never find a more loving prince. I swear of it." _**[He rests his cheek against her hand before looking up again into her eyes] **"**_**On** **my life." **_

My book slips from my hands and hits the floor with a loud thump. I can't hold back the flood of emotions any longer.

I run toward the exit, thankful that my bag is setting outside my chair so close to the door on the front row.

As the tears stream down my face I dig for my car keys.

Mr. Jacobs calls my name as I quickly walk down the hall. I don't stop. I can't.

I start up my car, my chest rising and falling rapidly with hiccups and my heart heavy with sadness.

I'm not sure how I make the short drive home, but as soon as I pull in the driveway and the car is in park, I run toward the house. Rain begins to fall. The tiny pellets splash against my cheeks and mix with my tears.

How appropriate.

I need him. I need to feel his weight in my arms. I need him to make it all better, make me better. I need his unconditional love.

I look over at my mother sitting on the couch. "Where is he?" I cry out through my sobs.

I don't even give her the chance to answer, I instinctively head for his room, pausing briefly before I gently open his door.

I see him in his bed, sleeping, golden hair reflecting the sun that's creeping in through the shut blinds.

Without warning, I hit my knees.

My legs no longer strong enough to hold the weight of my pity.

And I cry, quietly as not to wake the love of my life.

I cry letting the memories and the hurt cover me.

I cry until his soft whimper fills the space around me. I then take that love, that little bundle of joy, and let it cancel out the rest.

**"Our tears are what happens when it rains deep inside our hearts and we cannot hold the rain any longer. "**

* * *

_I have a PRIVATE FB group if you want in. I'm anxious to know what you think.._.


	2. Enter Edward Cullen

**Chapter 2**

**February, 2008**

**(15 Months Prior)**

* * *

"Where in the hell is he, Bella?" Jessica asks with a hateful voice. She narrows her eyes in that told-you-so kind of way, even though she hasn't told me much of anything in past three years. Only that she doesn't like Peter.

Once upon a time Jessica was my best friend, from kindergarten to freshman year, we did everything together. Then Peter O'Reilly asked me to the end-of-the-year freshman party and she didn't have a date. Jessica begged me to go with her and make it a girls night out. Instead I went with Peter and she never forgave me. Granted, Peter and I became inseparable after that, but that's what couples do in high school, where one goes, the other isn't far behind.

Peter is the cream of the crop; I don't know how I snagged him. He's so smart, in the top two percent of our class. He's the captain of the basketball and baseball team; he was even the star running back for our football team this past season. He has received so many scholarship offers for his athletics and his academics, he'll probably go Division One.

There's where my guilt kicks in. It doesn't bother me at all that in a little over four months we will split and go our separate ways with thousands of miles between us. I hate to admit that in a way, I'm looking forward to it. I know I don't love Peter—I even told him so months ago. I confessed that I loved him like a best guy friend, but that I wasn't in love with him, not like a girlfriend should be.

When we had our heart to heart I was afraid he would hate me. We had been together for so long, I was not sure I could have functioned day-to-day without him. How would have I spent my weeknight and my weekends? Who would have I talked to in school? Who would have I hung out with all summer? But he had simply laughed at me and said that it didn't matter—he loved enough for the both of us.

And I would never tell a soul, but I was very disappointed he didn't dump me or even put up a fight about it. I think that would have proved that he loved me more than brushing me off like he did.

I know there was a time I loved him like a first love should, there were lots of them.

I loved him in the beginning, when our love was fresh, new, and exciting.

I loved him when we began to experiment sexually and he was so caring and doting. He would get this look in his eyes and it would set my body on fire. I miss that.

I loved him when my grandfather passed away and he held me for what seemed like days and let me cry and snot all over his shirt.

I loved him when I had my tonsils taken out and he tried to make me homemade chicken noodle soup that ended up tasting like dirt.

I loved him when I told him about my dreams of studying abroad and how I was going to help produce this play that might win me a scholarship to do so. When he signed up to be my lead alongside me, I felt a flicker of that love.

But I haven't felt any of that love since, and I think if he would be brutally honest with me, he doesn't feel it either.

Yet here we are, Port Angeles' perfect couple, still together—for just a few more months anyway.

"Jess, he's probably stuck at practice, we'll give him five more minutes, then we'll start without him."

"Should have assigned Mr. Perfect an understudy," she mumbles as she stomps away.

She's right, I should have, but I didn't and it's too late in the game now to do so. We've been practicing for six weeks already and only eight more weeks before show time.

The side door to the auditorium swings open. I smile thinking it's Peter, but my smile quickly fades as the figures come into my view.

It's definitely not Peter.

It's Principal Banner and Port Angeles High's resident bad boy, Edward Cullen.

I say a small prayer. This can't be good.

I look back and forth at the two; neither will look me in the eye. Mr. Banner knows what this play means to me, and as far as Cullen goes, I don't think he even knows my name.

"Bella, I'm sorry to tell you this but Peter isn't going to be able to attend your play practice for a while. He and Mr. Cullen here, got into a little scuffle this afternoon and Peter fell and sprained his ankle. He's at the hospital right now but in the meantime, we have arranged for Edward here to be his understudy. Mr. Cullen has promised to do whatever you need him to do and he is at your disposal from now until the premiere. If you need anything else from me, please let me know."

I think Mr. Banner walks away but I can't see anything. My eyes are too full of tears that in no time are streaming down my face.

I plop down on the stage right there in the middle. My ass hurts a little but I don't notice it much.

All I can think is that my future is ruined. If I can't put on this play... If I don't get that scholarship…

If I don't get out of Port Angeles...

Jessica is instantly at my side, her hand rubbing up and down my back. "What can I do Bella?"

I shake my head. What can we do? It's too late to hold a casting call for his part. I sniffle, "Cancel practice until Monday, I need time to think."

She quickly shuffles away and I hear her whispering to everyone.

I don't even care what she's saying.

The lights overhead flick off with a loud clap. Only the small lights above the stage are on.

I hear a sound to my left.

A tall figure sits down on the floor beside me.

Oh yeah, it's him. "Why are you still here?" My voice is sharp, even in it's quite tone.

He shrugs. He mother frickin' shrugs at me!

Why me, Lord?

I wipe off my face which now feels crusted and nasty. I can tell my eyes are swollen and strings of my hair are stuck to my skin.

"Why are you crying over him?"

I gape at him, mouth open, eyes wide as they can be, shocked... "What did you say?"

"Why in the fuck are you crying over that piece of shit O'Reilly?" He's picking at the lace on his shoe, not looking directly at me.

His words sink in like pin needles on my chest. I am the worst girlfriend ever. I haven't even once thought about Peter's well-being.

I shake my head and I don't know why I say what I do. "I'm not. I haven't shed a single tear over him."

It doesn't make me feel any better to say it aloud.

"Then why the water works?" He looks over at me, and I swear I see a little bit of sympathy there, or at least something that resembles it.

"This play… I'm pretty positive you just ruined it by taking out my lead man. I needed this to be perfect for reasons you rich boys wouldn't understand."

In one quick motion, he pops up off the floor. "How about this, Smarty Pants—you don't assume anything about me and I'll grant you the same courtesy? Deal?"

He sounds offended but I can't find it in me to care.

Then he sticks out his hand to help me up.

"Whatever," I huff as he tugs me to stand.

"Like ol' man Banner said, I'm here to be your little bitch. Whatever you need me to do. So let's get started. What's first?"

I dust off my butt and realize he doesn't understand that Mr. Banner was implying he would play the part. Edward thinks he's going to be working set design or something, not an actually actor. I can have a little fun torturing him until I can figure out what else to do.

"Do you know where I live?"

He nods.

"Meet me there in an hour and we'll get started, I need to go and check on my wounded boyfriend."

He rolls his eyes and walks away, but not before throwing my favorite words back at me, "Whatever."

_**"Anyone who has spent a few nights in a tent during a storm can tell you: The world doesn't care all that much if you live or die." **_

_**~Anthony Doerr**_

* * *

**Thanks for the support of yet another fic, today has been crazy, but I will respond to you all. Hit me up on FB: MrsRobward Ficfickee & ask to be added to my secret closet! **


	3. You Can't What?

**Chapter 3**

After hanging up with Peter's mother, I drop my cell in my lap. I let my head fall back on the seat—hard—and try not to beat it against the headrest repeatedly.

She told me not to come to the hospital. I know in her deluded insane mind, she's blaming his injury on me. "It was your little play rehersals he was headed to," she said in her whiny-ass voice.

To put it mildly, she and I don't get along. She says I'm holding Peter back, I say she's filling his head full of bullshit, so we agree to disagree.

She informed me that he'll be missing school until his sprain heals completely. I wanted to remind her it was just a sprain; it wasn't like his ankle was detached and dangling from his leg. But if she wants to have him home schooled, more power to her. She claimed it would be too exhausting on him to trudge back and forth down the halls to his classes on crutches and heaven forbid if it swelled anymore.

I shake my head in disgust and glance over at the file stuffed with my screenplay materials over on the passenger seat.

Then I think of Edward Cullen.

I'm still in shock over that situation. I seriously don't know what to think. I mean, Edward Cullen? He is... he's just... he won't... he might...

I just don't know about him.

Well, I do know a little.

His best friend is Emmett McCarty, whose nickname is 'Bear'. Emmett dates this very pretty girl named Rosalie who I swear is into roller derby or wrestling or something—she has the whole badass persona and she scares me.

I know his parents are loaded—like old–time–money loaded, the–richest–people–in–town loaded. You really couldn't tell it by looking at Edward until you see his car. I know it's some old model hot rod and it's been restored to mint condition, and I've heard some comments that it's super-fast. Supposedly, he races it against other cars for slips or something, and he's never lost.

Then I realize most of what I know about Edward is hearsay, except for the money part and that his dad is some bigwig at the hospital.

I've heard he doesn't even have to show up for his classes or do any of his assignments, yet he still passes.

I've heard he's a member of like fight club type thing and he beats people up for pure fun.

I've heard he's this insatiable sex monster with a big dick that will and does screw anyone that's willing and even a few that weren't.

I've heard he drinks all the time and even smokes pot.

I've heard he's been to jail, not juvenile detention, but actual J-A-I-L.

And knowing all this I'm supposed to put my fate in his hands? I don't think so.

I pull onto my driveway and even through the sudden downpour of rain, I notice Edward's already parked at the curb waiting on me.

He's early.

I guess that's a plus for him, a small one anyway.

I glance in the backseat for my umbrella, but can't find it. I stuff all my things in my bag and open the door to make a run for the porch.

As I'm unlocking the front door, I see him jump out of his car and run toward me.

"Fuck this rain! I can't wait to get out of this mother fuckin' wet town. I swear…"

He almost runs into me as he curses the weather.

"You do realize it's always rained a lot in the Olympic Peninsula right? This isn't some new occurrence to be complaining about."

Our eyes catch and he smiles at me. A really big smile and then suddenly he's staring and smiling and smiling and staring and he has this look in his eyes that I don't understand.

But I can't look away.

"You're not crying anymore," he says in an almost whisper but I don't know if he's stating a fact or asking a question, yet it's almost like he cares.

It freaks me out a little.

I peel my eyes away and open the door.

"Follow me." I say with a quick shake of my head.

I lead him to my room. My parents aren't home from work yet but my brother Jacob is next door. He'll come home as soon as he sees my car in the driveway.

I throw my bag down on my bed and pull out all the play stuff. I have the book the screenplay was written off of and a couple of copies of the play itself. I get a pen and a highlighter so I can show Edward what he needs to memorize.

When I look up he's still standing in my open doorway with a blank look on his face.

"Edward?"

"Are you parents home?"

I shake my head.

"And this is your room?"

"Yes." I answer with a drag. I don't understand his hesitation.

"And you want me to come in there… with you?" He slowly smiles this devilish smile.

I want to throw something at him. He's thinking about sex. What a jerk.

"You can't be serious. Get this straight, Edward Cullen. We're speaking only because you've been assigned the responsibility of the part of Lord Robert Dudley's understudy. That's it and if I can figure out a way, you won't have that responsibility for long. Nothing has, nor anything will ever happen between you and I. We are not even friends. Got it?"

He slowly struts into my room, unfazed and seemingly having ignored everything I just said.

"I can't believe I'm in your room." He takes a deep breath through his nose, "It smells so good in here." He closes his eyes and breathes in again. "Even better than I imagined."

I want to tell him to stop, but I'm in shock. Again. "What?" Surely he just did not admit to imagining being in my room. No way.

"It's nothing." He grabs the chair from my desk and pulls it over to face me sitting on my bed.

But he doesn't sit down like a normal person. Oh no, not him. He spins the chair and straddles it backward. His long legs bent on each side of my white chair.

I'm still gaping at him.

He crosses his arms along the top of the back of the chair and rests his chin on the back of his hand.

He starts grinning at me again and evidently I'm too far gone in a trance of stupor to snap out of it.

"Let's get started, boss," he says with a wink. "What's first?"

But I don't answer because his proximity is so close. Close enough that for the first time I notice the small bump in his what I thought was perfect nose and the tiny silver scar above his left eyebrow.

I can see the stubble that's barely visible along his jaw, I wonder if it's soft and new like Peter's or if it's hard and scratchy like he's been shaving for years.

I catch all the different hues of his hair and it looks to be so silky. And then his eyebrows…they match the color of his hair and they're a little on the wild side. I imagine rubbing over them and taming them with the pad of my thumbs.

My eyes venture down to meet his own. I never noticed how green his were and how the greenness fades into blues around the edges of his irises. I've never seen more depth and more beauty in a person's eyes before. I find myself getting lost.

And enjoying it.

I stare so intently, my vision loses focus.

I blink a few times and glance down at the floor and then back up to his face.

He's still looking at me, looking in my eyes the same way I was looking at him.

I feel like the room is rocking and I can't find anything steady to hold onto. There's an unfamiliar charge zipping through the air. It's making me anxious.

Suddenly I wonder if he's dazzling me? Has Edward perfected some Jedi mind trick or something? Is this the way he gets into girls' pants?

If so, he's due for a rude awakening.

"What did you do to Peter?" My voice is a little shaky and quieter than I would like it to be, but I want to know.

His eyes narrow and his lips tighten. "Not near what he deserved."

Neither of us has moved much, nor has the mood shifted. The tension is still electric within the room. It's swirling around us like a funnel cloud, but I'm not sure where one emotion begins and the other ends.

"Tell me." I want it to sound like a command, but to my ears it's more like a plea, _so _not what I was going for.

"You should ask him. I bet he'd loved to tell you that story." He shakes his head at me, and then the corner of his lips curl up again.

"What?"

"Your eyes..." he trails off leaving me wanting to scoot closer to listen to what he might say.

"What about them?"

"So beautiful," he says those two words and I can't decide if I want to call his bullshit or wrap my arms around his neck.

"Holy Shit! Bella, why is Edward Cullen in your room?" Jacob loudly slaps the half open door with his hand. I jump so far away from Edward, I almost fall of the end of the bed.

"Jacob, watch your mouth!" I cover my face with my hands.

"You are Edward Cullen right? I mean I'd know that car anywhere. I swear, man, I dream about that car."

I die. A thousand times, I die. "Jacob Swan! I'm sorry, Edward, meet the spawn of Satan himself, my brother Jacob."

Edward stands and walks over to shake Jacob's hand.

"Hot damn, my friends are never going to believe I shook your hand!" I can't help but giggle at the look on Jacob's face. I even glance down to the floor to make sure he didn't crap his pants.

"You sure know how to toot my whistle kid, you wanna go out and look at my car? I'll even let you sit behind the wheel." Edward slings his arm around Jacob's shoulder and they start to walk outside. Jacob is speechless—that's a first. Edward seems to be adept at making people forget how to speak.

"Hurry up! We have work to do, Edward, and Jacob, watch your language!" I yell before they shut the front door.

Then I sit there alone in my room and wonder what in the hell just happened between Edward and I.

I walk over to the window and watch them next to Edward's car. Jacob is in his own personal heaven, and thank goodness Edward is being a good sport about it.

Edward opens the door and Jacob slides in behind the wheel. Jacob must have said something funny because Edward practically doubles over in laughter.

It's nice watching them get along. I don't get to see this type of thing usually because Peter can't stand Jacob and Jacob pretty much hates Peter.

I lean against the windowsill and cross my arms. Edward bends down into the open door and the sound of a loud engine filters in through my shut window.

I see the driver's side window going down and then Edward shuts the door with Jacob still sitting in the running car.

My window rattles when the engine revs a couple times and a little black smoke puffs out the rear of the car.

Edward looks up at the house and sees me watching him through the window.

Our eyes catch for the briefest of moments.

I feel a lump forming in the depths of my throat when he bends back down to talk to Jacob.

I'm going to have to thank Edward a hundred times for this.

The car shuts off and not long after they come back in the house. I listen as Jacob slams the door of his room, probably to play his video games.

I'm still looking out the window when Edward's footsteps enter my room. "Thank you for that. Jacob's had a rough time of it lately. I haven't seen him that happy in a while." I admit.

My white chair scoots a tad bit when Edward sits down in it.

"Can I ask why?"

I nod, "About four weeks ago his best friend passed away from cancer. He was thirteen, the same age as Jacob. Gah, they were so close. Seth just…he got sick one day and went to the doctor and the next thing we know, he's dying. Jacob never left his side. I still don't think he's dealt with the grief and I'm afraid, one day he's just going to break, you know?"

I turn to look at Edward and he's looking out of my door, towards Jacob's room and nodding.

"So thank you. I'm pretty sure you just made his year. Who knew that Edward Cullen was his hero?"

Edward huffs, "He's got low standards. You should talk to him about that."

I laugh and walk over to my bed to pick up his copy. "Moving on, what do you know about Queen Elizabeth the first?"

"She was the first queen?" Edward's eyebrows rise as he asks.

"Seriously?"

He shrugs. "What do I need to know about her anyway?"

Here's where I try to hide my smile. He still has no clue what he's in for.

"Have you ever heard of the Elizabethan era? Or what about The Golden Age of English history?"

Edward cringes and shakes his head. "I'm not much into history, English or otherwise. Nope, not at all."

If I had a desk within my reach, I would smack my forehead against it. "Have you ever watched _The Tudors _on HBO?" I ask, grasping at straws.

"A couple of times."

"When the show first started, do you remember Anne Boleyn? And how she had a baby that was a daughter instead of a son and King Henry was upset and later on Anne ended up getting decapitated?"

Edward nods but I'm afraid I've already lost him.

"Well, her daughter was Elizabeth, who one day became one of the most powerful women in the world. Her childhood, her upbringing, her rule, her life—it really is an amazing story, but I'll stop boring you now. What you do need to know and understand, is that she never married. Here's this woman in a time when women should be seen and not heard, come to rule, change the world and the whole time everyone was encouraging her, telling her to get married. But who could she trust? This play is a romanticized version of her rule and how lonely she might have been. How maybe she really did love someone, but chose her country first. How at night, when the entire castle was quiet, and she was alone in her big four poster bed, that maybe she cried sad tears of longing. Maybe she desired for someone to warm her side, or maybe she dreamed of a house full of children, but instead she died alone. Supposedly she even died a virgin a few months shy of seventy years old."

I stop talking and realize that Edward is hanging on my ever word, and there were a lot of them.

So I hand him the play, _The Lonely Reign of Queen Elizabeth the First._

He looks down at the paper and then back up at me.

"Wow. I never..." He swallows hard, "You make it sound very interesting, but why do I need to know all this?"

"You are going to study and read the part of Lord Robert Dudley. He was a childhood friend of hers, and was the master of her horses. He and Elizabeth were even prisoners together in a tower for a while. But there was all this scandal around them. She loved him but he was a commoner and..." I can't keep the excitement out of my voice as I talk about it.

I notice that Edward's face has been drained of all its color.

"Are you okay?"

He practically throws the play back at me.

"No, that won't work. I can't. You'll have to find something else for me to do." He stands up and shakes his head.

I stand and thrust the play back at him. "You have to. Peter was the lead man playing Dudley's part and we all know how that turned out. This is what I need from you, Edward."

"No, Bella, I can't." He emphasizes each word and I swear there are flames in his eyes.

"Why? Stage fright? We can work on that..."

He laughs this cynical laugh. "I don't give a shit about being on stage Bella; that's nothing. I wish it was that simple. You just don't understand."

I tighten my hold on the paper in my hands, almost crumbling it into a ball. "Make me understand, Edward."

He puts his hands on his hips. "If I don't cooperate with you, I get kicked out of school. If I get kicked out of school, I don't graduate and I lose my inheritance...my car. I need that car Bella, that's my ticket out of here. Please, just..."

The look on his face...

I just want to fix it all for him, but I can't. I simply need for him to learn his part. "I'm sorry, Edward. I need you to fill in for Peter."

Edward's head falls forward and I hear him take a deep breath.

"Bella, I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I can't... I can't read."

_**"A crown is merely a hat that lets the rain in." ~ Frederick The Great **_

* * *

**_Remember... all fiction... ALL OF IT!_**


	4. So That's How

_**A/N: I hope I'm not too far off, if I am, I stand firmly behind the use of my artistic liberties. I did research some & it seemed like it's a broad disorder & affects people differently. So, just pretend, and step back into this little world I have created..**_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"You can't read? Wha… What? Why?"

It sounds like such a stupid question, but he's right, I don't understand.

"I'm dyslexic. I wasn't diagnosed until I was in the third grade, and my reading has never caught up. Last time I was tested, I was reading on an intermediate sixth grade level, and that was eight months ago." His voice is shaky and unsure.

I think Edward's waiting on me to judge him or to ridicule him. I can tell he's definitely uptight and uncomfortable talking to me about this. I grab his hand and pull him over to the bed to sit with me.

"Explain it to me, Edward. How does it affect you? How you take test and read passages and… graduate?"

"I can read; it's just a really slow process but the main problem is my brain doesn't understand what it reads. By the time I get to the end of a sentence, I don't remember what I just read. But reading aloud," he shakes his head, "I've never been able to do that. It's like the sensors between my eyes and my mouth and my brain never connect. Bella, I'm sorry." He won't look at me and his shame is heavy and thick around us, it weighs and pulls on my soul. I feel horrible.

"You don't need to apologize to me Edward. I just want to understand it. Your teachers know though, right?"

"Yes, my teachers know. They pass down all my assignments to my tutors. I have a couple of them that I meet with three or four days a week depending on what's due." He takes a deep breath.

So that's why he doesn't ever do his work in class. I feel like a judgmental ass.

"Why even show up to your classes? Why not be home schooled?"

"Have you honestly not noticed? School is not exactly my thing. My parents know this, my tutors know this, and they let me lead, but it is expected for me to graduate. They don't push me too hard. I do what I have to do to scrape by. I sleep well at night with my C average. But my mother always thought it was important for me to feel accepted and …normal, I guess. She didn't want me to feel like there was something wrong with me or that I was dumb, so she's always insisted I attend public schools. Unfortunately, attendance happens to be one-fourth of my grade, so I at least show up enough to pass."

I can tell he's starting to relax, he's even grinning a little again.

My wheels start to turn, there has to be way I can work this out for him. "And how exactly do you study and do your assignments?"

"Hmm, what's the easiest way to explain this? Fist, my classes are all remedial and basic. We finally figured out that to compensate for the lack of comprehension my brain has to reading words, my memory excelled in remembering things that I've heard. Like lyrics to a song, I can hear a song twice and instantly know every single word. So my tutors read aloud my lessons and record them. They email them to me and I listen to them on my iPod. When we meet in person, they either read aloud the questions I need to answer in my homework, or read aloud the instructions and questions of my tests so I can answer them. Writing is a slow go for me, but it's a cinch compared to reading."

"Let me get this straight—they just talk and read into a microphone what you would normally read for yourself and for the most part, you understand the context and retain it? That's kind of amazing."

He shrugs and his cheeks stain pink in the faintest way.

I hesitate to admit it's adorable.

Then he stands up quickly off my bed and his mood goes back to serious and sour. "But Bella, look at this." He holds up a copy of the play. "This play is... long and I just can't get up there everyday with all those people and try to read from this script. And it would take days to record all this and then weeks for me to memorize it. That would eat up most of our rehearsal time and I don't think that's being very fair to you."

I nod and agree, but I'm not ready to give up yet.

"I'll figure something out Edward, but I won't keep you from graduating if you promise to somehow help me make this play as successful as possible." I reach out my hand for him to shake it.

He grabs my hand, but he doesn't shake it, he just holds it firm in his. "You can't talk to anyone about this, Bella. My learning disability is nobody's business. Only the ones who have to know about it do. I want to keep it that way. None of my friends…" He shakes his head and the fear that I see painted all over his face breaks my heart a little.

I cut him off. "Of course Edward, I would never tell. I swear it."

He takes a step closer to me, his hand loosening its grip on mine. I see that look in his eyes again, the look that I can't quite define. The look that's intense and deep and hypnotizing.

His fingers slide across my open palm, the wake of his touch slowly radiates up my arm, like the tickle of the tip of a feather. He leans forward as he raises the back of my hand toward his lips.

There's a small explosion in my gut, it feels like the grand finale at the Fourth of July fireworks show. It's slow then fast, some silent, some loud, and just when you think it's over, another flame shoots upward and it begins all over again.

His lips touch my skin, so innocently. I can't decide whether to focus on the warmth of his lips or the look in his eyes. Then the feel of my hand in his is just as distracting as the eruption of excitement that now fills my veins.

"Thank you," he says again, so quiet he's almost mouthing the words.

I don't answer. I still haven't figured what in the world is happening right now.

"I should go." Our hands slowly drop from their raised position and he takes a step back.

All at once a wall of guilt and anger and realization builds right in front of me and for the life of me, I don't understand any of it.

"Yeah. It's a Friday night after all." I say and sarcasm rears its ugly head. Of course he has big plans which I'm sure talking about the history of England doesn't fit into.

"Can I see your cell phone? I'll put my number in there and when you figure out what you need me to do, you can call me?"

I nod and dig through my bag to find my cell. I hand it to him and try to smile, but I don't think it works.

There are so many foreign emotions taking up residence inside me, that I'm highly pissed off, I think...

I should care less what Edward "The Player" Cullen is about to go and do on his Friday night.

I should be mad that he actually thought it was acceptable to kiss my hand.

I should feel guilty that I've spent the past hour with another guy and not my boyfriend who's laid up in pain.

I shouldn't want to cry like I do, or help Edward like I do, or wonder about how his kiss would feel somewhere other than my hand… but I do.

And I don't like it.

"Are you okay?" He hands me my phone back and I nod. "I think I may be getting a migraine, that's all." I lie.

"Well, get some rest and I'll talk to you soon?" he asks. I'm sure by now he thinks I'm some moody psycho chick.

"Yeah, as soon as I figure out how to handle this." I say it referring to everything, not just my play.

"Bye Bella."

I pretend to busy myself as he walks away. "Bye." I respond, so softly, he may not have heard.

"Jacob, call me and we'll get together and I will kick your tail playing Zombie Island."

"You bet your balls, Edward! I'm going to set us up a match and it'll be on!" Jacob yells back at Edward.

When I think the coast is clear I plop down on my bed, exhausted from the roller coaster ride I just got off of.

"Bella, wake up. I'm home." My dad says as he shakes my bed. "You need to get up and eat your dinner, hon."

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" I roll over and stretch. I'm surprised I dozed off that easily after…

Edward.

I jump up and look at my clock, I've only been asleep thirty minutes. The night is still young.

I pick up my file of play materials and head toward the kitchen. "Mom, Dad, Jacob, I need your help!"

_**"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**_

* * *

***mwah* Thanks for reading!**

**Twitter: Mrs_Robward**

**FB: MrsRobward Ficfickee**


	5. Coffee Envy

_**(remember those artistic liberties, AKA I-made-this-up-so-go-with-it, they still apply)**_

* * *

**Chapter 5 **

"Hello?"

"Edward? This is Bella, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm outside your house and..." There's this loud sound of a phone being dropped and then footsteps and maybe a shuffling sound, before I hear him speak again.

"What?"

I look up at the front of Edward's house. It's the biggest house I've ever seen. When we were younger, I came here to a few of his birthday parties even though neither our parents, nor Edward and I, were very close.

The sheer size of his house still overwhelms me.

Then I see a curtain flutter and a figure moving behind it. I assume it's Edward looking out of the window.

"I need to see you for a minute please. I have something for you." I start to question if showing up out of the blue at his house was a good idea.

"Give me a second, okay? Don't leave, I'll... I'll be right down."

I take a slow deep breath and wrap my jacket tighter around my chest. I step over to sit on the white porch swing and wait. My toes barely touch, but I stretch them out to push off the floor and propel the swing.

Seconds later, the front door opens.

Edward's still half asleep. His hair is wild, his sweat pants crooked on his waist, and his shirt is inside out.

"Shit, it's chilly out here." He rubs up and down his bare arms.

"I'm sorry to wake you but it's," I glance at my watch, "it's eleven thirty."

"On a Saturday morning but it's all right. " He adds as he sits down beside me on the swing. His bare feet touch the floor with ease. "I thought you were going to call?"

His hot breath rolls out in a fog as he speaks and I catch a whiff of mint—he at least brushed his teeth.

"I did call." I remind him.

"I know, I just thought... never mind. It's early; I don't think my brain is working yet." His voice is still rough with sleep; it makes me want to hear him ramble. Then I notice that he has goosebumps all over his arms so I figure I need to get on with it so he doesn't catch a cold.

"Like I said, I'm sorry but last night I don't think I told you why this play is so important to me. You see, my family," I look around at my surroundings, "we don't have a lot of money and I really want to go to college. My parents are very supportive, but there's only so much they can do and I've been given this amazing opportunity to win a scholarship... "

I try to keep the dreamy tone out of my voice as I explain it, "After I decided I wanted to study English Literature and History, I applied for this study abroad program. The place that I applied through offers a few scholarships, as in all expenses paid scholarships. The beginning of our senior year I found out I was a finalist. I wrote a lengthy thesis on the Elizabethan era and it placed me in competition globally with two other people for an open spot in their program."

Edward's looking at me like I just spoke to him in French & he doesn't understand a word of it.

"There are three of us vying for the scholarship in the literal arts department. To win I have to submit some sort of entry, and this play is my entry. Mike Newton has agreed that a few members of the yearbook staff will video tape every night's performance and help me submit a copy of the best production. I need this scholarship, Edward. I need to win. Otherwise there's no way my parents could afford to pay for something like this."

"Where would you be going off to college exactly?" He makes the swing whoosh back and forth but his feet never move from their spot on the floor.

"At Oxford University in the UK." I say with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Like near London? England? …UK?" His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are raised and disappearing under his hair.

I nod.

"Damn, and I thought after graduation _I _was going far away. For how long?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure, the program renews yearly, so at first it would just be for an academic year and then I'd go from there."

"Wow. That's great Bella, I…"

The door swings open again, but his time some tall, busty reddish-blonde hair bombshell walks out in nothing but a green robe.

Just as suddenly, my heart plummets to my feet.

She walks up to him and runs her fingers through his hair once before grabbing a fistful and jerking his head back so he's looking up at her.

I have to look away.

"Edward, you're out of coffee, do you know where there's some more at in this house? I'm kind of dying here."

"Probably in the pantry—did you even look?" I watch out of the corner of my eye as he swats her hand out of his hair.

"That damn pantry's so big; you know I can't find a thing in there," she whines.

"Keep looking Tanya, I'll be in there in a minute." He playfully pushes her away and she stumbles backward.

I look up at her and notice how absolutely gorgeous she is. I swear the pure envy I have of her perfection makes my stomach turn in the worst of ways.

"He-ey." She waves her fingers at me before winking at him.

I nod my head once and fight back the tears. I shouldn't have come here. What and whom Edward does on his own time is none of my business. I shouldn't care.

Gah, I wish I didn't care.

She shuts the front door and I jump off the swing. "I've got to go." The CD sleeves in my left hand feel weightless, but I hand them over to him anyway. "These are for you. My dad read your part, Jacob is the narrator, and my mom read all the other parts in different voices except for mine," I swallow hard. "I read my own." I refuse to make eye contact with him.

"What do you mean? What did you do?" He takes the sleeves from my fingers but doesn't look down at them. I feel his glare hot on my face.

I trail my eyes up to his, and see it plain as day—he thinks I told my family. "They don't know, I— "

"Eeeeeddddward! I can't find it!" Her shriek gives me the same effect as nails down a chalkboard.

I can't stand either one.

"Ignore her," he tells me as he steps closer. "Explain this." He waves the CD's at me.

I hear her footsteps inside the house as she quickly stomps toward us again.

"Just listen to it. We'll talk later." I can't believe the need for me to run is so great, but I have to.

I turn away from him and fly down the steps.

"Wait! Where are you going to be?" Edward yells at the same time the front door swings open again.

She stands behind him in the open door frame with her arms crossed. She's probably ready to claw my eyes out.

"Bella?" He takes one step toward me which is one step away from her but still… "Where are you going?"

She reaches out for his arm.

I stand a little taller, my back a little straighter, and I say what I say, hoping, if nothing else, it is simply a tiny dart flung at his huge ego. "I'm on my way to Peter's. I'll be there until tomorrow night and I'm already late."

I slam my car door and back up and turn around cautiously until I reach the end of his long winding drive, driving as though I'm perfectly fine.

As soon as I'm out of his sight I pound the steering wheel with my open palm. I am so pissed at myself for letting Edward fucking Cullen get underneath my skin! I know better and shame on me, because I have a freakin' boyfriend.

I wipe the angry tears off my cheeks and start the short drive toward Peter's house. That's it, I'm ready to go see my boyfriend and forget all about everything else for a few hours.

I make a promise to myself to be a better girlfriend to him. He doesn't deserve me being all flirty with other guys, well, one other guy. But I wasn't being _that _flirty, I tell myself firmly. I was simply being nice. That's all there is to it.

I'm over it now, Edward Cullen is nothing but Peter's understudy to me, and my interaction with him will be over soon.

I think I can make it that long.

What's the worst that could happen anyway?

_**"It is not light that we need, but fire; ****it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. **_

_**We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake." ~Frederick Douglass**_

* * *

**You know what they say about assumptions? **

**Now gimme those reviews, I'm dying to know your thoughts!**


	6. Peter

**Chapter 6**

Luckily, Peter's mom isn't home when I get to his house.

"Pete?" I yell as I open the front door and peek my head through.

"Downstairs!" he shouts back.

He had told me his parents moved the pool table around and set up a bed in front of their big screen television in the basement. Peter's house is the favorite hang-out-party-spot amongst our entire friend group; his parents spoil him in ways we all benefit.

He's talking on his cell when I walk in, but the big smile on his cute little face is nice to see.

He holds up his finger for me to wait a minute and then pats the bed beside him.

I put my bag in the corner and crawl up to sit with him. He opens his arm and pulls me close to rest my head on his shoulder.

I had forgotten how nice this could be.

"That sounds perfect, Mike," he says as he nods.

Mike is Peter's best guy friend. I always wanted to hook him up with Jessica, but she won't even give him a chance.

I close my eyes and settle in against Pete, letting his familiar smell and his simple touch comfort me and ground me. I shouldn't deny it or fight it—this is who I am.

"All right, hurry up. See ya." Peter hangs up and puts his other arm around me and squeezes me tight. "I missed you," he says with a deep breath.

I look up and grin at him and he leans down to kiss my cheek.

"Are you in much pain?" I stick out my bottom lip in a pout and rub his chest.

"I'm fine as long as I don't move." He laughs.

I reach down to lift the throw that's covering his foot. It's all bandaged up so I can't see anything.

"The good news is that my doc said I should be healed enough to start opening day of baseball season. I'll miss a bunch of practices, so I'll have to put in double practices as soon as I can." He sounds hopeful and not too bummed. He is so dedicated.

"I talked to your mom last night," I snarl.

"Yeah, she told me. She's all freaked out and upset saying I'm going to lose my scholarships and shit. A sprained ankle is nothing, but you know her. At least I don't have to go to school for a few weeks." He wiggles his eyebrows.

I slap at his chest and shake my head. "I heard, but... what about my play? You have the male lead." I begin to fiddle with the fringe of one of the massive pillows tucked behind him, part of me feels guilty for bringing it up.

"I'm sorry; I just don't know what's going to happen yet. But is it true that Mr. Banner is making Edward Cullen learn my part?"

I slowly nod my head. "Yeah, he brought Edward over to practice yesterday but..." I shrug, "I need you. You know what this means to me and I hate to sound all self-centered and stuff, but..."

He pulls me in tight again and kisses the top of my head. "Don't worry about it, babes, it'll all work out. Just you wait and see."

I huff and try not to let it worry me now. We stay like that for a good while, snuggling and quiet watching some cop show on TV.

I remember that Edward told me I should ask Peter what happened between the two of them, so I pull away and sit up to ask but I'm quickly silenced when it sounds like a herd of elephants coming down the steps toward us.

In walk Leah, Sam, Mike, Devin, Angela, Riley, Embry, Vicky, James, and Maria.

"If you can't come to the party, the party will come to you!" James sings as he places a stack of pizza boxes on the pool table.

I try not to show my disappointment but I was really hoping that Peter and I could have a quiet evening alone. No such luck now. This crowd will most likely end up crashing on the floor, after drinking too much beer tonight.

Peter elbows me, "I told them to come over; we're going to have a movie marathon."

"Hmm," I hum with a fake grin.

Mike walks up to the bed with a bag full of movies.

"What did you find?" Peter starts to dig through the bag. "Hell yes! Texas Chainsaw Massacre—start with this one!"

"Slasher time," Peter chants as he hands me the bag of DVD's. I open it up to peek in and he's right—all horror movies. An entire bag full. Wonderful.

Doesn't he remember I only tolerate watching these movies at Halloween?

Then again, this isn't all about me, not even in the smallest way, so of course I can tough it out.

"Hey, some of you can come over here and sit here on the bed, just DO NOT TOUCH the ankle." Peter gestures toward his foot. "Or bounce on the bed."

"Pussy," Sam coughs and I can't help but laugh.**  
****  
**Forty five minutes, one slice of pizza, and one beer later, I'm wishing I had an excuse to leave.

I'm friends with his friends, everyone gets along, but I'm just not really in the mood for all this right now.

I stand to stretch and I notice his copy of the play is stacked with his other things on the table, beside his makeshift bed.

Good, he better not forget about it. I pat my pockets and realize I left my cell in my bag. I get it and escape for a bathroom run.

When I get back I find that Angela is now sitting beside Pete on the bed. I roll my eyes. He's such an attention whore—he loves it, and she sure does love to give it.

If I was the jealous type, that would bother me, yet since I'm not, let them have their little flirt party and watch their gore movies. I think I'd rather take a nap.

I stretch out on the chaise. There's one thing that I've mastered from dating Pete and hanging out with his friends, and that's sleeping through the noise.

"Bella, answer your damn phone, it keeps ringing!" Mike yells from across the room effectively waking me from my nap.

The room is a littler darker, so it must be late afternoon. They're all still huddled around the television.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. I've missed two calls and four text messages. One text was from my mother telling me to call her, the rest were from a number I'm not familiar with.

But it doesn't take me long to figure whose number was programmed in as 'sexy beast' in my contacts.

**12:52 p.m.**

**Bella. ****This is Edward. Call me back.**

**~Sexy Beast**

**/ / /**

**1:28 p.m. **

**I need to ask u sumthing, call me.**

**~Sexy Beast**

**/ / /**

**2:01 p.m.**

**I need to talk 2 u. ****Please?**

**~Sexy Beast**

I correct his name under my contact list and see that it was also him who called me a few minutes ago. He didn't leave a message on my voice mail either time.

I glance up to see who is around me and not a single person is paying me any mind.

My curiosity is piqued and I wonder what he wants.

I scroll down to his last message and press reply. I sit there staring blankly wondering what to say.

**3:57 p.m.**

**Hey! Whats up? **

**~Bella**

I type in a dozen different things before I finally just hit send. I try to watch the movie but looking at my screen waiting on his reply seems much more exciting.

Just ask the butterflies in my belly—they feel as though they're locked away in a cage anticipating a tiny tear in my resolve for them to escape. All the while, the flutter of their wings somehow stirs my whole being.

**4:09 p.m.**

**FINALLY! TG!**

**~E Cullen**

I giggle and then tuck my lips under my teeth as to not draw attention to me laughing at my phone.

**4:10 p.m.**

**What r u doing?**

**~E Cullen**

I sit there for what seems like the longest, not knowing how I should answer, or really, not knowing _how_ I want to answer.

**4:16 p.m.**

**Still at Pete's.**

**~Bella**

There, that's oddly satisfying.

**4:17 p.m.**

**U saying there all night?**

**~E Cullen**

I know I told Edward I was, and Peter had said I could. I used to stay over all the time, most of the time we keep it PG with strictly cuddling on the couch. Our parents trust us together, but I hadn't decided if I was going to stay tonight. I think I already know the answer to that because if all these other people are staying, I am not.

But Edward doesn't need to know that.

**4:19 p.m.**

**Yes. Why?**

**~Bella**

Instantly my cell rings and Edward's name pops up on the screen. I hit the ignore button to stop the ring and bury my cell in the cushion of the chaise.

A few seconds later it starts to ring again. I push the cushion down harder hoping to muffle the sound.

My heart is beating wildly in my chest and I swear, I'm breathing faster. Just _knowing_ Edward Cullen is making me feel like a rebel.

The cushion vibrates for the next five minutes as Edward calls and calls. There's a battle raging in my head, call him? Ignore him? Tell Pete, don't tell Pete? Leave? Stay?

After a few minutes of noticing my cell seems to have stopped ringing, I walk over to Peter's bedside.

"You all right?" he asks as he grabs my hand.

"I'm just tired and I feel like I may be getting a migraine." Twice in twenty four hours I've used that excuse, it's a good one. This lying thing isn't as difficult as I thought it would be.

"Awwww," he pulls me toward him and I'm forced to sit on the bed. Angela huffs and I resist the urge to flip her off. She's now perched at the end of the bed near his hurt food. I hope she rolls over on it and he kicks her off the bed.

"Come here." He starts to run his fingers over my scalp and massage my head. He knows I love that. It makes me purr like a kitty.

But it doesn't last long. Embry comes over to the other side of the bed and shows Peter some video that's playing on his phone.

I'm always the least important, and it gets old.

"I think I'm going to go. I'm just not in the mood for all this tonight." I say after Embry takes his place back on the couch.

"No! Don't go. Stay with me." Then Peter laughs at something on the movie.

"How about you call me after they all leave tomorrow, so maybe I can come back over?" I suggest.

"You're mad aren't you? Babes, please don't be mad, I just wanted them all to come over and hang out. I was bummed about my ankle and ..."

"I'm not mad, I promise." I stretch up and kiss his lips. My eyes close daring to get lost in something that I don't even know is there any longer.

He kisses me back, sweet and gentle. Like he means it a little but not like he wants more.

"Call me later," I whisper before rising off the bed and going to gather my things.

Everyone is so engrossed in the movie no one even notices I leave.

I pull up at my house and start to walk inside when I notice a car inching down my road.

It comes to a complete stop right behind mine and the window rolls down. "I knew you'd come home tonight."

**"_There's always a period of curious fear between the first sweet-smelling breeze and the time when the rain comes cracking down."_**

**_ ~Don Delillo_**

* * *

_I'm sorry but FFn just would not format some of this chapter like I wanted! _


	7. Cool Ride

**Chapter 7**

I'm startled that Edward took the time to drive over here. "What are you doing here?" I slam my door shut and walk up and lean down to peer into his open car window.

"Well, you didn't answer my call, so ...I was headed to Peter's next..." He raises his eyebrows and grins his crooked grin.

I swallow hard as that small vortex of excitement begins to swirl in the depths of my gut. "Why?"

"I said I needed to ask you something," he nods.

"You don't always get want you want," I say with defiance and even a tilt of my head.

"I know that."

"Good," I cross my arms. "Well go ahead, ask me."

"Let's go grab a bite to eat." He doesn't even ask, it sounds more like a command.

I'm not so sure I want to go anywhere with him. And arguing with him is kind of fun anyway. "No."

"Please, Bella. I want to talk to you about your play and we all need to eat, right?"

My spit is thick as molasses on my tongue. I don't know what it is about him that renders me speechless and makes me feel so strange, but it's intriguing.

"I want to take you for a drive too." He reaches over to the center of the console and pushes a button, the top clicks and hums before it rises and starts to fold down.

"Edward, it's February!"

"So get your coat and come on, I'll turn up the heat." Then he smiles that way where his whole face shifts upward and his eyes twinkle and you'd swear it's Christmas morning and he's six years old again.

His smile makes me feel that way too. That's totally normal right?

"Hold on," I announce to him with a drop of my shoulders. I pretend that going anywhere with him is the last thing I ever wanted to do, even though it sure doesn't feel that way.

He revs up the motor as I walk toward the house and I try my best not to smirk.

It doesn't work.

"Bella, there you are! Some boy named Edward called for you this morning," my mother says as I walk through the door.

"Yeah, sorry I forgot to call you back. I was at Peter's." I open the hall closet door and pull my out my thickest jacket.

"How is he?" My parents love Pete; they think the sun shines out of his ass. I know they expect me to ride his coattails right on out of this town because they want what's best for me. I just don't have the heart to tell them that Peter's not it.

"He's good Mom, he's just taking it easy for a while."

"You going out?" she asks at the same time that she glances out the window and spies Edward's canary yellow convertible with the top down sitting outside the house. "Bella, who is that?"

"That's Edward Cullen, the one who called earlier. He's Peter's understudy, so we are going to eat and talk about the play."

"As in Doctor Cullen's son?"

I swear her eyes light up and money signs appear.

"The one and only, but Mom, please. We're just friends." I slip my arms in my sleeves and take a deep breath before I head back outside, towards the unknown.

"Would Peter agree with that?" My mom narrows her eyes out the window as she asks.

I tell her the honest truth even though she may not want to hear it, "I don't even care." Then I slowly click the door closed and revel in how good it felt to say that aloud.

I slide into the small passenger seat of Edward's car and try not to deeply inhale the warm musk of his cologne that fills the car. The heater is blasting and spreading his scent everywhere around me, so I can't not smell it…and boy does it smell good.

He looks over at my house and waves at my mother who is still staring out of the window, before he slowly pulls away. I want to disappear into the floorboard.

He just chuckles and shakes his head.

"Nice car." I look up through the open roof at the darkening sky. "Is this one yours also?"

"Nope, it's my dad's. Car collecting is his hobby and if I'm behaving, he lets me drive them."

I nod, pretending to understand his way of life.

"After I graduate high school," he says, "I get my pick of one. So of course, I need to test them all out."

I resist the desire to roll my eyes. Oh the life of the rich.

Edward turns down the radio, his fingers lingering over the many controls on his console. "Have you ever ridden in a convertible in the cold of winter?"

A chill zips down my spine, "No, I haven't, it sounds…it sounds so crazy," I admit with a huff.

The engine roars louder as he steps harder on the gas. "It is."

The g-force of his speed pushes my head against the back of the seat. I feel as though we are about to take flight but I'm not the least bit scared.

I guess I trust him.

"Stand up." he shouts.

I whip my head around to gape at him. Surely I heard him wrong.

"Do it! Come on! Just once, hold on to the top of the windshield and stand up." His eyes are sparkling as he glances back from me to the road. He makes it sound so simple.

I contemplate all the consequences and what could be the worst thing to happen.

"Trust me." His smile overtakes my uneasiness so I zip up my coat and push my chair all the way back so I'll have some standing room.

Hot air pulses from the vents, clashing with the nip of the wind; each extreme battling for supremacy.

On unsure legs, I stand up; my head rising above the windshield that I'm clutching for dear life. The cold air rushes past me, the scenery waving by in a blur. The heat from Edward's heater takes its time as it floats upward and keeps me warm even though one third of me protrudes from the car. My skin can't decide if it's freezing or not, but gooseflesh covers me just the same.

My hair whips around, smacking my face. My eyes begin to tear, the saltwater hesitant to leave my lids. I keep my mouth closed, afraid that I might accidentally catch a bug with my teeth.

Edward goes a little bit faster; I can tell by the way my body wants to fall backwards.

But I can't explain the way I feel. Maybe now it's fear or maybe it's just plain stupid fun, but it's definitely something that I never knew I was missing. Maybe it's adrenaline from the danger or the thrill of doing what's risky. Then again, maybe it's just being here with Edward that makes me feel so alive. Either way, I love it.

I slowly let go of the windshield and unzip my coat. The chill envelopes me as it sneaks through my clothes as if they're nothing but a sheer material. At the same time, the heat hugs me just enough to remind me that I'm safe. My jacket flaps in the wind, and I almost wish I didn't even have one on.

My teeth begin to chatter but instead of retreating, I raise my hands up straight and tall. Edward now has the radio loud, but all I can hear is the zoom of the air as we cut through it. I can feel the pound of the bass in my legs and I bounce slightly to the beat.

A car passes us going the other way and honks its horn. In return I yell a scream that sounds like a drunken party girl from MTV's Spring Break Party on the beach.

Edward grabs my hand and yanks me down to sit again. I'm giggling and I can't stop. "Holy shit! That was awesome." I dry off the few tears that have wet my face and hold the back of my hand against my nose. It is so cold.

He's laughing with me. "Told you, but we're here. I'll take you for another ride after we eat."

I lean forward practically putting my face against the vents, trying to thaw my nose. "I think I'd like that."

Instead of parking he goes through the drive-through. I start to interject my opinion when he lifts up his hand and puts it over my mouth. He rolls down his window and gives our order without asking me what I want.

His hand falls and he drives around the building.

"What was that? I didn't…"

"Bella, when are you gonna start trusting me? You have to eat their cheeseburgers. You just have to."

"Okay," I mumble and settle back in my seat, not knowing how to act. Edward is the polar opposite of Peter, and I've been so used to being Peter's girlfriend for so long, I don't know how to be myself.

The girl working the window flirts endlessly with Edward. It's kind of sad how obvious she is and even worse is that he flirts back. He does somehow convince her to give us free milkshakes.

Once I make a gagging noise and turn my head to look out my window instead of watching them.

As he rolls up his window, he hands me a napkin with a number and a name written on it.

"Do you want this?" I hold it up and ask.

He shrugs.

I wad it up and throw it out of the open top, right before it closes.

He raises his eyebrows at me. "Hold these." He hands me the bag and drink tray. "I know a place."

_**"Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet." ~Roger Miller**_


	8. Passion

**Chapter 8**

He parks in the middle of a dirt road on a clearing high on a hill. I look around and see nothing but faint street lights in the distance ahead, trees behind the car, and sky all around us. I'm in awe.

"Where are we?" I'm sure I've never been here before.

Edward doesn't shut off the engine but it's so quiet, you can barely hear the hum. "This is my thinking place; it's where I come to be alone and...you know…think."

"You mean Edward Cullen—the juvenile delinquent—actually has a thinking place? Who would have guessed that?" I poke at him.

He takes the bag out of my hand and opens it up. The aroma of meat and cheese and bacon makes my mouth water. I hadn't realized I was even hungry.

"You better not spill my secrets, Queen Bella. I know where you live." His smile instantly droops into a more serious expression. "Seriously though, I've never brought anyone up here before." He hands me my burger.

"Why now? Why me?" There's a pounding in my chest that might be my nerves, or it might be my heart, but whichever one, I sure enough feel it in my toes.

"Why not?" He shrugs. "You know more about me than most."

I disagree, "Not really. I only know what I've heard, but I don't think I really know you... Matter of fact, I don't think I know you at all."

"You know enough." He pushes a button on his stereo and my dad's voice fills the closed space around us.

I look away and take a bite. He was right—this is a really good burger, huge and messy but... dang. I chew slowly and ignore the lump of nerves that's heavy in my throat as my voice fills the cab of the car from his high dollar speakers.

_"__Thou __art__ like my little dog, Robert__. When__ people see __thee__, they know I am nearby.__"_

_"__Is that a compliment Elizabeth__? __For __I think not so.__"_

My father's deep voice mixed with his fake English accent makes me giggle. Edward laughs too, then turns down the radio and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"Bella, why did you do it?"

I take my time swallowing my food, wiping my mouth, and taking a drink. Why do I feel guilty all of a sudden? "Does it really matter?"

He turns away from me to look out his window and barely nods his head.

"If it makes any difference, I've been meaning to make an audio of the whole play since before rehearsals even began. I thought it might help me with edits and stuff. My family always said they'd help me and then after you and I talked, I decided it was as good a time as any."

The cramped quarter around us is silent for what seems like forever.

Edward clears his throat, "You promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"You just didn't do it for me?" He looks back at me and his eyes look so sad and burdened.

There's a part of me that wants to lie to him, tell him I did it only for him, but I didn't. "I did it for both of us."

He takes another drink. "I'm not comfortable with people going out of their way for me."

I don't know why Edward is opening up to me like he is; why he has deemed me worthy. I just know that everyone needs a friend sometimes and I can be good at that, I think.

"What about your tutors?" I suggest.

"They're getting paid to do it." He answers without emotion.

"What about your teachers?" My voice raises a little.

"Honestly, Bella? Do you even have to ask?" He shakes his head.

"They're getting paid to do it too?"

"Of course." He nods, and the more I think about it, the more it pisses me off.

"You father pays your teachers to give you your work? What the hell, Edward? That's their job!"

"I know it's more to keep quiet about it than it is because they're going out of their way to help me. So I'm not offended; it's all right." He laughs a cynical laugh and I'm not convinced that he's not offended.

I huff and wad the rest of that huge-ass burger up in my paper. I just lost my appetite. "Well, I am. That's bull crap."

"Feisty little girl, you are." Slowly his eyes travel down my body, leaving a tiny sizzle simmering on my skin. "Try your milkshake."

I pick it up and take a slow drink, happy for the change of conversation. "Mmm, that's good."

"Thank you, Bella, for making me those CD's. I really appreciate it and I swear I'll do the best I can to memorize Dudley's part."

I smile at him."That's all I ask."

"Now tell me some more about your favorite queen's back story."

He reclines in his seat, drink in hand, and warm air rolls out of the vents around us.

"Really? Gosh, where do I start?"

We sit for hours in his car. I ramble about Queen Elizabeth and he listens so intently. Sometimes he asks questions, but mostly he acts as though what I say is the most important thing in the world.

It's a foreign feeling.

I think I'm in some parallel universe. I know most people have to have a deep-rooted desire to want to learn about history the way I do; it isn't for everyone. Yet, he keeps encouraging me to keep on talking, saying it will help him understand the play.

I am beyond flattered.

"You have such passion about all this. It makes me jealous." Edward turns up the heater and starts to let the top down again.

It's early evening. The stars are just appearing in the darkening sky. Edward stops the top from opening completely, giving us just enough of a ceiling for an unobstructed view. I guess also keeping in as much of the heat as he can.

"Do you need your coat?" He reaches into the back seat and hands it to me.

"Thanks." I cover up with it instead of putting it on. I mock him and recline my seat so I can lie back and look upward.

"So tell me, what are you passionate about?" I ask, wanting to know more about him.

"That's easy. Getting out of town. Living on my own. Freedom." His voice is so flat, so void of life. It kind of hurts.

"Is your life really so bad here?"

"No, it's not, but it's what I have passion about. I'm counting down the days." He genuinely smiles at me and the stars reflect bright in his eyes and it's all I can focus on.

It one of those moments when you can feel the rarity in the air—a place you'd thought you'd never be, a sight you assumed you'd never see, a warmth in your heart you hope to never lose. It's special.

"Why do you do the things you do? The racing, the fighting? I don't think that's you, Edward."

"Bella, don't give me so much credit. That is me, but yeah—there's a little more there that I don't share with anyone. Well, until now."

"You should though. All this nice Edward-ness shouldn't be wasted on me."

He puffs out his lips and a hush falls between us. "How come all the girls like you are taken?"

Even though I'm blushing like crazy, I can't help but laugh. "Please, like you'd ever have a steady girlfriend."

"Yeah," he whines, "you're probably right." But he's not smiling nor is he looking at me.

"Besides girls like me have different priorities than guys like you do." I stammer for an answer that doesn't sound like I'm snobby or stuck up.

"What? Priorities like getting the hell out of Dodge after high school?"

I nod and wrap my arms around myself a little tighter. "You got me there."

"I know, I know, girls like you have high standards right?" He's grinning a little now, but something inside me still doesn't feel right having this conversation.

"Sort of," I admit. "The girls you're usually associated with don't have the best of reputations."

"Like what?" he pretends to not know what I'm referring to, but I'd bet money he knows.

"You know! Your lady friends don't have standards at all." I laugh, the mood has lightened finally.

"Come on!" He slaps his hands on his knees. "Do you know how many girls want a piece of me?"

"Uh... yeah, the desperate ones are forming a waiting line, I'm sure."

His laugh is deep and bottomless and I swear the temperature of the car climbs ten degrees in an instant.

"What about all the guys who want to be me? What do you think about them?"

That's a no-brainer. "They want the easy girls," I say in a singsong voice. "And I might add, I've heard of how many of those girls there have already been."

He shakes his head.

"There's where those standards should kick in." I jokingly whisper.

"I guess but you really shouldn't believe everything you hear, but it is what it is. We all can't be a Peter O'Reilly."

It feels as though he slapped me right across my face and the sting travels downward penetrating every inch of me. I ignore the want to retaliate. What would I even say? Instead, I stare straight up and focus on the stars. The cold breeze seems to quickly invade the gap around me, causing me to shiver.

He doesn't say anything else and the quiet around us now is thick and uncomfortable.

"It's getting late, I should get you home."

I nod and right my seat before I buckle my seat belt.

I close and rest my eyes as he shuts the top again.

The stars disappear, just like his good mood.

He's right; I do need to go home.

I don't belong here.

**_"Problems in life are like rain. And the nice thing about rain, is that it always stops." ~Unknown_**

* * *

_A/N: Sorry I haven't replied to reviews, I'm trying to write like a banshee to get this booger done. I'm feeling doubtful about this fic & I hate that. So let's just keep going, shall we? It is what it is. And I appreciate ALL the reviews! _


	9. Hold On

**Chapter 9**

Sunday afternoon, Edward sends me a text apologizing for being rude the night before. I reply that all is fine and that I will see him on Monday at school.

I spent most of the night wide awake, wondering what is going on with me. I know I'm stressed about this play and I worry about how it's going to turn out. For everyone else, it's merely a grade, but for me it's the start of the rest of my life. It's the foundation for my future and even more than that—it's my dreams coming true. So it is a big deal for me to get it right.

Then there's Peter and I, and when I think about us, it's like I can't come to any type of conclusion. There's a part of me that doesn't want to lose him, but there's an equal part that feels we shouldn't be together anymore. Then the play comes back into my mind, and I'm reminded that I need him to be a part of it and then… hello, guilt!

I call Peter just to put my mind at ease and the strange thing is, when I talk to him, his voice sounds wonderful. It's like when I am away from him I'm lost, but when he's around, I have direction. It makes me insecure. I don't want to have to need him or anyone else for that matter, but now it's like he's my crutch. I try not to cry when I tell him about my worries with the play's production and he proceeds to life me up and reassure me it's going to work out.

I knew he was good for something. I swear he has this way of making me feel more like myself. I guess I need him in ways I don't even understand. But it doesn't stop that low, constant voice in my heart that keeps telling me to let him go.

I'm straddling the fence, dizzy with discontentment, tired of simply settling. So much that it makes me want to throw up.

I ask him about spending the day with him. I think it would be good for us to have some time together, but he informs me that he can't have company today. Evidently, last night his friends encouraged him to try to shoot some pool and now his ankle is swelled and his mom is pissed.

So, it's just me and my thoughts.

I go to my room and grab my headphones. I plug them into my computer and start playing the recordings of the play. I make some notes as I go along and before I know it I have to go pee.

I hear a loud shout from Jacob's room, so I peek inside the door to make sure he is okay.

My breath catches in my throat when I see Edward sitting on Jacob's floor, playing Xbox with him. They are yelling and laughing so loud that they don't even hear me enter.

I'm in a bit of a stupor but I approach them both until I am in their view and they can't help but see me.

Edward almost drops his controller, probably because the look of shock on my face.

"Bella, you don't need Edward to practice today do ya? I invited him over to play me in the this new game I bought last night." Jacob won't even take his eyes off the screen, whereas I can't look away from Edward.

"No, he's all yours, Jake." Edward peeks up at me; his smile is dismal and barely there, but I give him a bigger one in return.

"Hi," I mouth and throw my hand up in a wave.

His grin grows just a smidgen. "Hey."

I step back out of their way and mosey right out of Jacob's room to let them have their fun.

I do leave both Jacob's and my door open to eaves drop on their hoopla.

**/ / /**

The next week at school is busy with end of semester testing, and afterward we have play practice. Edward always shows up, but in this particular part of the play, he doesn't have any lines. I sometimes see him helping with the set design to pass the time. It makes me think he may be trustworthy after all.

I see him in school, no—more like I can feel him around me. His stare has this burn... It's crazy and I've never noticed it before, but he and his friends are always around. Every free time—at lunch, in the parking lot, in between classes. It doesn't take much to find him. He's right there, close enough to spot, yet far enough away to wonder if it's intentional or not.

A couple of times he nods his head in my direction, and once there is even some girl right in his face, but it doesn't stop him from acknowledging me. It is a small victory that I kept to myself.

I always smile, say hi, pretend that my insides aren't jittery and my heart isn't beating way too fast just by seeing him.

As the week wears on, I find myself searching him out. It's like I need to know where he is, what he's doing, who he's with—it's so wrong but I can't help it. An obsession I have no business obsessing over.

On Friday, Edward and I finally have a part to rehearse and I haven't really spoke to him all week.

I'm standing off to the side of the stage when he walks up and leans into me. He's way taller than I am, my shoulder hits right above his elbow.

But something about his weight, his skin, _him _against me...

"Are you finally going to talk to me or are you still mad at me?" he says, while looking ahead at the action on the stage instead of looking at me.

"What are you talking about? I'm not mad at you." I find myself wanting to lean toward him more.

I glance up at him and he's chewing a toothpick. "You haven't spoken to me all week."

"I assure you it wasn't on purpose, but you haven't talked to me either!" I point out.

"I can't."

"Why can't you?" I turn to face him and he almost loses his balance.

He backs up a few steps and leans against the wall. "Your boyfriend's minions are keeping tabs on us and I can't get into another fight on school property. Which is what would happen if someone said the wrong thing around me, so it's best that I don't."

I'm standing there in shock. I can't believe that Peter would tell his friends to keep an eye on me and watch out for whom I talk to. That's ridiculous and I won't put up with it.

Edward and I move to center stage. I carry a script for reference. We stand there and wait for our cue.

There's an angry blob churning in my stomach and all I want to do is call Peter and cuss him out.

"Has anyone ever told you how hot you are when you're pissed? You get this fire in your eyes..." Edward points and circles around my face.

"Stop it." I try and hide my grin, just like that my mad melts away.

"It's true, I think I'll try and piss you off more often." He wiggles his eyebrows.

I swat at his arm and he grabs my hand.

I start to pull my hand away.

"Bella, you and Edward, take your place right over here." Mrs. Cope shouts. "And then wait for Lee to shine the spotlight on you both."

Edward leads me to our spot. I look down at our combined hands, and then back up to his face. He has that look in his eyes again—like he's so alive. He squeezes my fingers and I feel the warmth spread through me—fast like a current up my arm. It leaves a tingle in its wake.

Mrs. Cope walks over to stand in front of us. She's barking orders at someone but I'm lost in a trance of the here and the now and how it feels to be hand in hand with Edward Cullen. How it should feel odd and inappropriate and I should want to stop. How I should feel awkward and guilty and not want anyone to get the wrong idea.

But none of that enters my mind, instead I squeeze his hand back and hold on tight.

**"_The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain." ~ Dolly Parton _**


	10. That's What He Said

**Chapter 10**

The next Monday as soon as I see Edward at school, I don't hesitate to approach him. His eyes widen the closer I get and all his friends look at me as though I have four heads. I am a lamb entering in the lion's den.

Toe to toe I stop right in front of him. I hadn't really thought about what I'd say when I got over here.

Edwards shock soon fades to obvious amusement. "Why, hello there."

I bow my head to him a little and shift my books in my arms, "Edward."

It seems as though everyone else in the entire school stops to stare at us in the halls. It's like in a movie where a record screeches and time freezes and all eyes are pointed in our direction.

But I've never been one to care about what the masses think.

Edward's friend Emmett turns to speak low into Edward's ear. Out of the corner of my eye I see Emmett's girlfriend Rose, also talking to the other girls around her, quiet enough so I can't hear what she's saying, and I feel out of place.

My face starts to redden, the heat of my blush tingling my skin.

Edward and I are in this stare down, and as the seconds pass our surroundings seem to fade away until it's just us—it is for me anyway.

It makes me feel a little more comfortable.

He ignores whatever Emmett says to him—matter of fact he's ignoring everyone but me, even the dark-haired chick who's standing close to his other side snarling at me.

"What are you doing?" he says in a low voice.

"Whatever I want." I answer louder with enough confidence to try to convince myself.

He nods and his grin is crooked and I feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.

"Good for you."

He's still staring, I'm still staring, and the intensity around us is like a buzz in the air. I don't know where it comes from. I don't know how he can make my skin feel like it's alive with energy. It seems I don't know much of anything anymore.

I jump as the warning bell rings and the halls are instantly loud and busy when my world restarts its rotation.

Edward dips his head to speak close to my ear; his hand comes forward and lightly holds my elbow. "You should get to class."

I look down at his hand. "Yeah, I'll see you later."

I back away slowly before I turn and see all of mine and Peter's friends huddling together in the hall watching me with judgmental eyes.

I shrug their direction already knowing exactly what they're going to do.

"What was that?" Jessica speeds up to walk beside me.

I laugh, "What did it look like?"

"It looked like you and Edward Cullen!" The excitement of a possible scandal is so loud in Jessica's voice, I almost trip over it.

I abruptly stop walking and she bumps into me. "It looked like me and Edward Cullen what?" I challenge her.

"Um... Well, you know," she stammers.

I shake my head, "Yeah, I do know. The rest of you, I'm not so sure." I brush past her shoulder as I leave her standing there gaping at me.

It sure does feel good to speak my mind.

**/ / / **

"You know you're going to hear it from your boyfriend tonight when he calls. He's going to be so mad at you," Edward teases as we sit on the side of the stage, our legs dangling as we wait on Mrs. Cope to show up. He's referring to me stopping to talk to him in the hall today. I also went out of my way to speak to him at lunch too.

"Whatever. I just don't like to be told I can't do something by someone who has no authority over me." My parents call me stubborn and bullheaded; it's a problem I've always had.

"Wow. You are a spitfire, Swan! How sexy is that?" Edward bumps me with his elbow.

"Hush." I mumble as I bury my face in my hands.

"Everyone, center stage," Mrs. Cope shouts as soon as she busts through the auditorium doors.

"Hey, don't ever change for anyone," Edward says as he leans in toward me when he gets up.

I watch him walk away and wonder if he knows me better than I know myself.

He stops and spins and takes a few steps back in my direction. "But just for the record, you are never, ever allowed to kiss me! Do you understand?"

He raises his eyebrows in what I consider a challenge before he walks off again.

Sometimes I think I like disobeying orders.

Tonight I'm finally going to get to talk to Peter about what Edward had told me. Peter's parents had taken him to their lake house for a long weekend hoping he could get some extra rest. They are due back any minute.

What they really meant by whisking him away was 'we are taking you away from all your friends and your girlfriend so you will do what you are told.'

I haven't talked to him since Thursday night; there's very little cell phone reception at the lake. I've been there a few times in the past year and could never call out on my cell.

I'm not as pissed as I was before; I don't even know if his friends have gotten to him yet and told him I had made a point to talk to Edward at school.

But I am ready for a fight.

After a few minutes of him telling me how bored he was all weekend, I interrupt him. "So... I heard a rumor."

Peter doesn't say anything—matter of fact, I don't think I even hear him breathing.

"Are your friends keeping tabs on me?"

He mumbles something I can't make out. "Of course they are. I can't be there so I asked them to watch out for you."

I swallow hard. "What do you think I am? A baby? Peter, I can take care of myself and just so you know, I can also speak to whoever I want. I can eat lunch, I can talk on the phone, I can even get a ride with anybody. I. Want."

"Shit, babe. Don't get mad. I didn't mean it in a bad way. If you want I'll tell them to forget it."

"Yeah, that's what I want." I have to bite my tongue to not say something mean.

"Listen, Bella, I'm sorry. I worry about you when I can't be with you. I trust you and I agree, you can do whatever you want. Just don't be mad at me."

I'm still pissed and confused and hurt. "Whatever."

"Can you come over?"

"Yeah, I can." I take a deep breath and wipe off my face.

"Great, I miss your doll face. I'll see you in a minute."

I throw the phone down on my bed and go to change my clothes.

I can't stop wondering when things will ever get back to normal.

_**"Rainbows apologize for angry skies." ~Sylvia Voirol**_

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you to all who said I shouldn't be doubting myself. With this fic I challenged myself to just tell a story. Don't go for all the big bang moments, or the gut wrenching angst, just a simple love story - I'm trying but it still makes me nervous! Please just give our Bella some time to figure it out.**_


	11. Good and Bad

**Chapter 11**

Saturday afternoon, Edward shows up on my front porch. He's here to hang out with Jacob.

I step out the front door and gently close it behind me.

"Can I ask you something, Edward?"

He straightens his shoulders and jams his hands in his front pocket. "Of course."

"Why do you keep coming here and hanging out with Jacob? I mean, it's a very big deal for him and, I don't know—I don't want him to get his feelings hurt or anything."

"I do it because I like to. He's a fun kid and it's always boring at my house. Plus when I'm here I feel like I can be myself. He doesn't expect anything from me." Edward shrugs.

"Just always shoot him straight, okay? He's been through enough."

Edward takes a step forward, practically trapping me between him and the door. The smell of his clean scent mixed with a light cologne invades my senses. I can even taste him on the back of my tongue and there's not one bone in my body that wants to push him away.

He reaches his arm around me to grab the door one step gone between us and I'd be in his arms.

Pure temptation.

"Come play with us." His breath is all minty as it wafts past me.

I have to lean my head back to look up to him.

"I'm not very good." I inch backward toward the door.

"I don't care, it'll be fun." Edward steps forward.

"Jacob doesn't want to share you." I'm almost pushed up against the door now.

"Jacob likes me; I think he'll share if I suggest it." Edward's eyes are shifting side to side, watching my own.

"Do you want me too?" I don't know why I ask, but something about the thought of him wanting me, even if it's to do something mediocre, excites me.

He nods his head, slow and deliberate. "Yeah, I do."

Then his smile—it swipes the word 'no' right out of my vocabulary.

"Okay," I say in an all too breathy voice.

Edward twists the door knob behind me and it's all I can do to catch myself before I fall flat on my ass.

He starts laughing at me about the same time I start giggling. In the blink of an eye, Edward wraps his arms around my waist and picks me up. He takes off in a sprint and carries me toward Jacob's room.

I squirm, trying to break free, but I don't try very hard.

"I never knew you were so clumsy," he murmurs into my hair.

In the short distance, I catalog it all. My hands are converting his, reveling in how different from Peter he feels. Edward is all muscle and tone, and his skin is rough from the light hair that covers his arms. He so strong, he totes me like I am weightless.

My back is pulled flush against his chest. His arms are wrapped around me. I throw my head back when his fingers dig into my side with a light squeeze. I fight to catch my breath through my squeals and I surely don't miss how perfectly his shoulder cradles my head.

He tosses me down on Jacob's bed and I just lie down there, my whole being still in a tailspin.

"Jacob, how about we show your sister here how to kick a little Zombie butt? After all, it wouldn't hurt to have a third person on our side."

"That's a great idea; I bet we can even beat that next level!" Jacob cheers.

I seriously can't believe my brother agreed.

**/ / / **

When Edward and I are on stage, it's like magic happens. He's done an amazing job at memorizing his lines. We complement each other and it's safe to say that he practically knows my actions before I do.

We have great chemistry.

It's never far from my mind that Edward's still this rowdy guy; that's the side of him I've never seen. I'm not even sure I want to because when he's with me, he's kind of perfect.

Edward says these things to me that are so contradictory to his personality, but there's a part of me that thinks this is how he charms all the ladies—that I'm just another quest to notch into his belt.

"I can't explain what these stage lights do to your eyes."

"Has anyone told you how good your hair looks pulled up like that?"

"You should wear that shiny shit on your lips more often."

With each flirt, smile, and with every word he speaks, I fall into his trap a little more. **  
****  
**It's a dangerous place to be.

The next few weeks carry on the same, Edward and I flirt and joke and he touches and I don't pull away. It's nothing serious—he'll throw his arm around my shoulders and tell me how fine my ass looks in my jeans. Or he'll grab my wrist and hold it up to his nose and inhale it, and moan about how mouthwatering I smell.

I laugh and blush and tell him to stop, but I think he knows that secretly I love it. Peter never is or never has been so crass and verbal and so ...raw. Peter is always sweet and orderly and just… nice.

I think I like a little variance.

**/ / / **

I rarely see Peter—rehearsals and set design consume all my free time. When I do have time off, his mother makes a point to keep him busy.

It's frustrating. In a way I feel guilty for how I'm behaving without him, even though I haven't technically done anything wrong, and often I feel bad for not missing him more than I do.

Every few days Edward comes over to hang out with Jacob and when I can, I join them. It's harmless, but it's so much fun. We all get along so well.

**/ / / **

**April 2008**

We only have a month before opening day, so I schedule some time on the separate small drama stage to go over Edward's lines with him, especially the ones we'd already practiced before he started.

When he shows up, he somehow looks different. He has this goofy grin on his face and his eyes are glossy and red.

I pick up my copy of the script and tell him to follow me.

He grabs onto my hips, and walks so close behind me that I almost trip on his feet.

I spin around, and a familiar smell sets me off.

I push his hands off my hips, "Are you high?"

He brings his hand up to pinch his fingers together, "Juss a lille bit."

"And you've been drinking?"

This is the Edward I don't know.

"Juss a lille," he slurs.

He grabs my hips again and pulls me to him, my body so close to his. He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. "I'm sorry, I had a bad day. Don't be mad."

I can barely make out what he's saying and it doesn't help that I feel him all over me, head to toes, top to bottom. It makes my bones soft and my skin tingle.

"Whatever Edward, go home. Sleep it off." I try to back away but he grips me tighter.

"No, don't go away." His head falls forward and lands on my shoulder. "Why do you do this to me?"

I don't know where to put my hands, so I lift them and hold them straight out to my sides. It's a fight to not wrap them around his back or tangle my fingers in his hair. My brain, my body, and my conscience are all at war.

"Do what to you Edward? I'm not doing anything." It's practically a cry, I feel so incompetent. His helplessness is a riptide and it's pulling us both under.

He drags his head back and forth along my shoulder. "Why do I want you so much? I mean, fuck. What I wouldn't give to dirty up that mind of yours. That's really what I want... you. Juss you."

I can't let his drunken foolish words get to me even though I would like nothing more than to roll around in them, bathe in them.

I freeze as his nose begins to slowly slide against the skin in the crook of my neck, his breath is humid and ragged. I feel the contrast of his lips as they come in contact with my bare skin.

"Stop, Edward." I push at his chest. "Stop."

With a sob, he crumbles against me. My arms are barely strong enough to hold us both up. I don't hear his cries, but I feel them wet on my shirt.

"Come on, I'm taking you home."

It's all I can do to lead him to my car. He's staggering and clumsy, but we make it.

He barely fits in my car, his body is so long and lean, he looks out of place. Edward doesn't belong in Honda's, he was made for convertibles and hot rods and Aston Martin's.

He slumps down in the seat and relaxes his head against the headrest. He's quiet now, his eyes closed.

Neither of us says a word on the drive to his house. I can't quit thinking about what he said—that he wants me. Could he have meant it? Like... for real?

I pull up as far as I can to his front door, I help him out of the seat and lead him to the front door. His mother opens the door before I get there and looks at me with sad, heartbroken eyes.

She's reaching for him and apologizing to me. Tears are pooling in her eyes and all I can do is tell her it's okay.

Even if I don't know that it is.

_**"After a storm comes a calm." ~Matthew Henry**_


	12. Apologize

**Chapter 12  
****  
**The next day, Edward doesn't show up to school or to rehearsal. I'm not surprised. I try not to let it bother me and keep busy. We work on the lighting of the set and thankfully, no one asks me where he is.

Yet when I get to my house and see Edward sitting in his car in my driveway, my heart starts beating overtime.

I ease out of my driver's seat and look his direction. He rolls down his passenger window and yells out my name.

With hesitation, I approach his car. I lean down and look at him through the open window. "Hey. What's up?"

"Will you get in so I can talk to you for a minute?" He looks rough. His eyes have dark circles under them and his face is a little pale.

His shirt is miss-buttoned, wrinkled, and not tucked in, and his jeans are worn out and holey. I hadn't noticed that his hair was getting longer until today as it sticks out in all directions on his head.

"Are you all right?" I ask as soon as my door is shut.

He's picking at his steering wheel. "I will be."

"What happened?" I turn in the seat to face him more.

He shrugs. "Nothing really, I just came here to apologize. I don't remember much of yesterday. I figured I was out of line with you and my mom said you brought me home."

I'm frustrated. There_ was _something wrong, so I push. "Don't tell me it was nothing, Edward. You were upset. So what gives?" I say more harshly than I mean to.

He takes a deep breath and exhales loudly. "It's just...my dad, he'd been raggin' my ass all weekend about college." Edward cynically laughs through his nose.

"Me? College? Can you believe it? He wouldn't quit and I have no desire to even attempt to go to college." He shakes his head. "I'm not going and it's eating him alive. It's like he doesn't even understand me or even care what I want. We can't get along anymore and I'd had all I could take. I went out, I smoked, then someone bought in some whiskey and tequila. Before I knew it, I was numb." He looks over at me, his eyes are so hollow. "And that's exactly how I wanted it to be. I wasn't even thinking about your play."

He starts to twirl a loose string on the knee of his jeans. "I don't do well with high expectations or with outside pressure, and I hate that I'm letting down my parents—but it's the way it's always been."

"It's partly my fault too, isn't it? All I've done is add to your pressure." I feel guilty and useless.

He doesn't answer me.

"Edward, you have to tell me these things—"

"Bella, no! Helping you, it's the best thing I've had to do in a long time. I actually like it, so—it's not like that. This play is easy for me and I think I've got it, but it's everything else I'm not so sure about."

He sounds sincere and I would like to believe that I'm not pushing him too much. "If you're positive Edward…"

"I am and listen, I'm truly am sorry about yesterday." His gives me that sad smile that makes my heart tear up.

"Honestly, I don't like seeing you like that, so don't do it around me again, okay?"

I throw him a smile back to let him know that I forgive him. He starts to drum the steering wheel with both hands, "Now tell me, how far did I go?"

My eyes get big and those butterflies start to flutter in my belly. I so don't want to tell him this. "It doesn't matter." I say hoping he will drop it.

"Bella, tell me. Come on, I'm working on my damage control here."

I take a shallow breath that comes out all shaky and unsure. "You might have mentioned wanting me... or something like that." I say in one jumbled sentence. My mouth goes dry as I speak and it's all I can do to swallow my spit.

Edward laughs, "Figures. Leave it to tequila, the depressing truth serum."

"Whatever." I roll my eyes and look away. I ignore every cell in my body that has suddenly come alive.

"Why do you think that is?" He's looking out the window away from me, his drumming now slower and softer.

"Why does tequila make you say stupid things?" I ask confused.

"No, not stupid things, I _was _referring to the other part." He looks over at me, his head thrown back against the seat, and I feel like I am laid open and bare. It's uncomfortable.

It takes me a second to processes it all—what's he's talking about and implying. And it's never far from my mind _who _I'm talking to.

"Get real Edward, if you wanted me in any way, it would only be because you know you can't have me. Isn't that what you do? Edward Cullen breaks all the rules, right?"

It doesn't sound correct as I say it. Those words sound too harsh, too mean, too untrue.

His face is void of emotion, "You're right. That must be it." Then I hear the anger in his voice. It fills the cab of the car with ice.

I can't take it back now.

"Will you be there tomorrow?" I reach for the door latch.

He nods. "Oh wait! I read in one place in the play that there is a royal ball where Dudley and Elizabeth dance. When are we going to rehearse that?"

"We're skipping that part." I respond dryly.

"Because of me?" His voices rises and his eyes narrow.

"No, no, no. Because of me. I have two left feet. I can't dance." I say as I'm getting out of the car.

"What if I knew someone that could teach you, would you do it?"

I turn back toward the car and lean down, "I'd try," I say with a shrug but I have little faith and anyway, it's not going to happen.

I slam his door closed, hoping he will forget about it.

He rolls his window down again, "Plan on going tomorrow after school instead of rehearsals. You can ride with me."

"What? I don't know..." I stammer. I really, really am uncoordinated.

"Just give it a chance? One day? One practice?"

And just like that I give in. One time won't hurt anything. Even though it might make a fool out of me, I think my ego can take it.

"Once," I answer.

He winks, "Tomorrow."

Then he drives away and once again, I am reeling.

_**"Life isn't finding shelter in the storm. It's about learning to dance in the rain." ~Sherrilyn Kenyon**_

* * *

_**A/N: Someone asked about how many chapters? No more than 25 I think, I'm still writing and I'm on 16 now, so we will see. And b/c I am still writing I wont be able to reply to your reviews, I am on a deadline & it's not looking to doable, lol! **_

_**But know that I read every review as it comes in & they all make me giggle & smile & do a hoochie-coochie dance in my seat! I know you're all wanting things to happen & I swear THEY WILL! Your questions will be answered in time. **_


	13. The Volta

_(The dances are real, search this on youtube: **Volta between Elizabeth I & Robert Dudley - The Virgin Queen [BBC 2005]** (it was my fav))_

* * *

**Chapter 13**

After school Edward is standing at his car but he's not alone. That girl, Tanya I think it was, is there with him. They appear to be arguing about something. I hear him tell her to mind her own damn business. She looks like she might cry.

I know the feeling.

He sees me approaching, I can tell by the shift of his body, the way his shoulders relax and the way he smiles.

_Take that Ms. Perfect! _

By the time I make it to his car, she's already gone but I look around for her just in case. The last thing I need is some jealous girlfriend trying to run me over.

"I thought you might stand me up." He crosses his arms and leans against his car.

I would never admit that the thought crossed my mind. "Nah, I think I owe you one."

"One?" He chuckles as he opens his door.

"Okay, okay, a whole lot more than one," I admit with a groan as we leave.

Soon enough we pull up to a large building.

The sign on the front reads 'Alice's School of Dance.'

Edward seems to be overly excited to be here, whereas I just want to disappear into the floorboards.

"You made it!" Some woman hugs Edward's neck as soon as we walk through the front door.

He hugs her back, "I told you we'd be here, didn't I?"

"Don't give me that, you haven't been back in this building in years." She turns to me and sticks out her hand. "What's your name again?"

Edward steps forward. "Alice, this is Bella. Bella this is my aunt, Alice. She owns this place."

Hearing the word 'aunt' sends a wave of relief over me. We shake hands and then she puts her arm around me and leads me up the stairs.

"So, Edward was telling me about your play and I know a few Renaissance dances from that era if you want me to show you? This is so exciting! I'm normally teaching hip-hop or ballet, never _The Volta _or _The Galliard!"_

We enter a huge open studio lined with mirrors on one wall. "Come over here Jasper!"

She introduces Jasper as her husband, then he and Edward exchange a fist bump and an odd look passes between them.

"You two take a seat over there and Jasper and I will give you a demonstration. These dances are not that complicated."

As Alice fiddles with the large stereo on the other side of room, Edward and I sit down in two of the chairs that are lined up in the back of the studio.

Edward leans over toward me, speaking low into my ear. "You should be proud of me. I researched this stuff last night. I know all about Queen Elizabeth and her dances."

I look over at him. His smile is so big, it lights up the room. His pride is showing for all to see. I feel a ripple of a swoon in my heart. "I am proud of you."

Even if he never looked up a single thing about the Elizabethan era, I am already proud of him. Maybe I should tell him so more often.

"Okay you two, this is The Galliard," she shouts as she and Jasper take their place in the center of the room.

An instrumental song starts to play and they begin to move around the floor. The moves are solid yet soft. Alice and Jasper eyes are locked on the other, it feels like we're invading an intimate moment, but I can't look away.

"I found out that your Queen loved to dance, she did it every morning as a form of exercise. And Robert Dudley was quite skilled himself—he even had a dance named after him." Edward says out of nowhere.

I look over at him in shock and hold back my laugh. "I already said I was proud of you. You don't have to try to keep earning brownie points."

He shrugs and leans away from me a bit, so I turn back around to watch the performance.

Then I feel his shoulder against mine again as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Maybe it's not brownie points I want."

I try my best to not react, to not feel the nerve endings in my skin coming alive and pulsing; to pretend that I'm not affected by what he's implying.

It's not very easy.

Instead, I focus on the dance moves and the soft music. I refuse to acknowledge what it could be that Edward Cullen wants from me. To be honest, I might not even have it to give.

After a few turns on the floor, Alice motions for us to join her.

She takes Edward's hand and links it with mine, then goes over to reset the music. I feel small in this room, his hand in mine, emptiness all around us. I feel like I am not me. I don't dance. I especially don't dance with Edward Cullen.

Not me.

Yet here I am.

Alice begins to direct us as the music starts. She circles us, her hands on me, her hands on him. "Do this." "Don't do that." "Loosen up, Bella." "Edward, straighten your back!" "Faster." "Slower." "Left!" "Your other left!"

We spend hours, twirling and jumping. His hands fit so snugly around my waist. I get this illusion that he really wants to hold on to me. And when he lifts me up above his head, I fly.

As the night wears on, we get better. The steps start to come to me without even thinking about them. Edward and I laugh, sometimes so hard my stomach hurts. He makes fun of himself and it aggravates Alice, but she's a good sport.

My feet have blisters and my legs are cramping. Edward is doubled over, his shirt damp around the collar with sweat.

Alice finally turns off the music, "Practice one more day, and I promise, you both will have this perfected."

Edwards looks at me up from his squat in the floor. "Fuck me I'm tired but what do you say, tomorrow?"

I'm too exhausted to talk, so instead I just nod my head and agree.

He drives me back to school to get my car.

When I close my eyes I feel like I'm still dancing. It almost makes me dizzy.

He stops by my car. "Are you all right to drive home?"

"Oh...yeah. I'm just drained of energy." I open the door but hesitate to get out. Instead I turn in my seat. "Thank you for today. I never dreamed in a million years that I could dance and now that I have, I really liked it. So, thanks."

I watch as he nods and then takes a deep breath. "You're welcome, Bella. I enjoyed dancing with you too. I can't wait to do it again."

**/ / /**

The next day, I text Edward and tell him that I will meet him at the studio. I have to go in to stage area and approve some of the set designs that have been changed.

I can't believe how excited I am to do this again. All day long I've been eating ibuprofen like candy and I have a whole box of band-aids covering the blisters on my feet, but I want to dance again.

Edward is sitting behind the desk in the foyer of the studio when I get there. He gets up to lock the door behind me. "Alice had some kind of meeting come up tonight, so it's just me and you. Let's go upstairs."

Edward is a few steps ahead of me when he suddenly stops. "Crap, I forgot my cell on the desk right there. Will you get it for me?"

With his long legs he can clear two steps at a time.

"Sure."

I turn to go back and pick up his phone. When I do, the screen is lit up and Tanya's face is showing in the text box. I stand there frozen for what feels like hours but amounts to seconds.

The screen goes black and reminds me to get moving. I'm being stupid.

I jog up the stairs, chanting to myself to let it go. Don't bother asking Edward, who Tanya is, it is none of my business.

_I don't need to know. Doesn't matter to me. None of my bees wax. _

As soon as I hand it to him, he unlocks the screen and rolls his eyes. "She needs to shut up."

My foot is tapping, my knee is bouncing, I can't do it. I can't not ask.

"Is that the girl that was at your house the day I dropped off your CD's?" I lift my arms and pretend to be stretching.

"Who, Tanya?" He looks down at his phone again and I feel dumb for bringing it up.

"I think so?"

"Um... yeah. You're right. It was her. She's getting on my last nerve." He tosses his phone down on the chair.

"Girlfriend troubles, huh?" I say before thinking. Instantly, a million times I want to take it back because I'm pretty sure I don't want to know.

"Tanya?" he snarls and shakes his head. "No, definitely not. She's my cousin. Her mother, my mother, and Alice are all sisters. But Tanya is also one of my tutors. She's going to school to be a teacher and mom thought it would be a good idea for her to practice on me. Now all she does is think she can boss me around. She's suddenly so wise to the world and wants to advise me on how to live. Fuck that, I already have parents. I hear it enough from them."

A long sigh of relief escapes my chest. Hmm, a cousin. Lovely words to hear.

Edward starts the music and we take our places. We start our four count and move slow with the music.

I swear that he pulls me in closer to him than he did yesterday. His eyes also seem darker today and somehow, deeper.

Just when I dismiss his seriousness for the love of learning to dance, he spins me to him, face to face. So close that every part of my front is flush to every part of his front. "Tell me what you see in him—tell me why you love him?"

I don't know why I answer what I do, but it was the only word that came to mind. "Who?"

Edward stops dancing, his hands tight on my waist. "Don't play games Bella; I'm talking about Peter. Explain it to me."

_**"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky."**_

_**~Rabindranath Tagore**_

* * *

_**A/N: Rose and Missy are the bees knees, this fic would make you barf if you had to read it before they got a hold of it! **_

_**I think you know what's coming soon ;)**_


	14. Falling

**Chapter 14**

The music picks up and Edward pulls me along with him. His eyes are still burning a hole into mine. We spin and twirl and he lifts me higher and higher, when he sets me down, I am so close to him. I can feel his chest rise and fall. I feel his hips as they twist. His thighs brush against mine with every movement and now, he wants to talk about Peter?

"I swear, I'm not playing games. I'm just not sure what you want me to say." I could explain to Edward how often I've thought about breaking things off with Peter but how chicken shit I am to make the call and just do it.

"I want the truth. I want to know why you love him; why you stay faithful to him. What makes him worth it? Just tell me."

Edward asks for the truth but I just don't think he knows how complicated it is.

"I stay with Peter because it's easy. It's what my parents expect of me. They trust me with him. He's my routine. He's familiar and safe. And I'm with him because I feel like it's part of who I am."

"But not because you love him?" he asks in an almost whisper.

I shake my head and look away. I feel ashamed, like I just admitted how pathetic I am.

Our dancing slows. Now we're swaying more than dancing, but he's still holding me tight and close. I'm still leaning in to him and our breathing is fast and synchronized.

There's no other place that I'd rather be.

"It doesn't have to be that way, especially if you don't love him. He doesn't make you who you are, Bella. Don't you ever get bored of him?"

I laugh without meaning to. "I get bored every day, Edward, but I'm getting by. You know how that is. In time in won't matter if Peter and I break up now or in May, after we graduate."

"True, but you don't have to be bored. Life is too short for that."

He dips me backward, that is _so not_ in the routine. My hair flips and flies when he pulls me back up.

His eyes just keep getting darker and darker, and I just keep slipping and drowning in them.

"I know, I just never cared before," I admit with a shrug.

"You should care." His eyes narrow and he dips me again.

My body is hot. My skin is threatening to sweat. My heart is beating triple time in my chest. There's too much closeness and talk and intimacy. It all burrows down into my soul and tries to turn me inside out.

The song changes and we stop dancing _The Volta, _even though we weren't really dancing that at all.**  
****  
**We begin to practice _The Galliard _and everything is going good. Edward and I really have rhythm together, our moves look precise.

Then he does that thing where he draws me into him, like a magnet. Opposites that attract and have to be pried apart.

"I just can't see the appeal of monogamy, Bella. One person? Really?" His eyes mirror humor, but I think there's something richer to his questioning.

Without thinking, I mold against him a little more. A boldness takes over, one that may be playing with fire, but one that is willing to get burned.

"Have you ever been turned on by just the brush of a knee, or the gentle touch of an arm innocently resting beside yours in a movie theater?" I trace my fingers across his chest.

"No."

"Have you ever felt someone eyes drinking you in from across the room? Knowing for certain that you're the one they want, you're the one they are positively going home with?"

"Kind of," he answers with a narrow of his eyes as they drop down to look at my mouth.

I shift upward to stand on my tip-toes and speak low and direct into his ear, my lips so close to his sensitive skin.

The tension in his hold around my waist tightens.

"Have you ever... had an orgasm... just from a kiss?" I speak each word with such emphasis I feel his shudder.

"No" falls from his mouth with an unsure cough and I feel like I just won the battle. _Take that Edward Cullen!_

"Then yeah, I suppose you wouldn't understand." I step back out of his arms and bow to him before turning and walking away.

When I pick up my water bottle to take a drink, Edward is still watching me.

"Thirsty?" I ask.

"Shit!" He spins away from me. In a move I'm sure I'm not supposed to see, I watch as he adjusts his junk.

Score one for me!

**/ / /**

We dance for a little while longer before he suddenly turns to me. "Let's go for a drive again."

"Right now?"**  
****  
**Edward points to the window. "Yeah, there's a full moon tonight."

He doesn't even wait for me to say yes. He's already clicking off buttons and turning off lights.

He tells me to go home and he'll meet me there. He's in this excited rush.

I still don't know what he's planning.

When he pulls up to my house riding a motorcycle, my heart practically lunges up into my throat.

He turns off the bike and I start to protest as soon as he kicks the kickstand open and leans the bike over.

He ignores me and stands to shrugs off his jacket. "Put this on."

He turns and unstraps a helmet from the back and shoves it my way. "And this too."

I slip my arms into his leather jacket, it's so warm and it smells so good. It also swallows me whole, but I zip it up anyway and try not to bury my face in it.

He helps me adjust the helmet strap under my chin, and it fits well enough.

That gleam is in his eyes again…it's pure excitement and life and...just plain ol' happy.

I like that I get to share it with him, it rubs off on straddles the bike and puts on his helmet. He motions for me to join him. My legs are kind of heavy and resistant, but I go.

He cocks his head to the side. "Get on."

"I'm scared," I say with a nervous laugh.

"You know you can trust me."

I take his offered hand and climb on behind him.

He slips on a pair of gloves and flexes his hands.

He turns his head to the side to talk to me. **"**You have to hold on to me good, you can put your hands in my sweatshirt pocket." He grabs my hands and sticks them in the front pocket of his sweatshirt. **  
**

He starts up the motorcycle and rumble is outstanding. The vibration jars my body. He curls his fingers up underneath my knee and I slide down the seat as he pulls me in tighter to his back.

My mind wants to go there—to think about us like this. The way his legs are wide open and his thighs are flexed and tight in his jeans. The way mine are open too and cradling his. How my front, boobs and all, are pressed up against his back. And now my hands, how there's only a few scraps of materiel between my fingertips and his flesh.

But after he takes off and gets up to a good speed, all I can concentrate is holding on. I turn to lay my head against his shoulder.

I stretch my arms and curl them more around his waist, holding him in a hug.

The wind whips around all the strands of my hair that are flying out from underneath my helmet.

The air is a little chilly, but I don't feel it. I might as well be cuddled up next to a fire.

We get caught at the first stop light we come to. He slows down gently.

Edward handles this bike with ease. I feel safe and secure with him driving. I never would have thought that.

"Are you scared now?" He turns his head to the side and shouts over the engine.

"No!"

"I bet ol' Petey never made you feel like this, huh?"

Then he revs the motor and the tires make a short squealing sound and we take off again.

My grip on him tightens but not because I feel like I'm about to fall. I just need him closer.

Edward's right, he knows. Peter's never made me feel like this, so alive and free. I'm pretty sure, he never will.

What Edward doesn't know is that he's ruining me, I don't know if any other guy will ever make me feel like this again.

Edward is setting the bar so high.

**_"The drop of rain maketh a hole in the stone, not by violence, but by oft falling." ~ __Hugh Latime_ **


	15. Dress Up

**Chapter 15**

One week. That's all we have before opening day. This play is all I can think about. It even consumes my mind as I sleep.

I haven't seen Peter in over a week now. His ankle is better and since he's still excused from school, his parents are taking him to visit a few of the colleges that are recruiting him. He's called a couple times and everyday I get a few texts, but it's not the same.

Nothing about Peter and I is the same anymore. I thought we could wait it out and stay together until after graduation but now I really see no need for us to stay together.

Peter's even going to miss the play, and I think that's what has finally broken the deal for me. He knows how much I need this, how important it is to me, and he doesn't even seem to care.

Edward was pleased when I told him he was no longer an understudy and the male lead was his.

It might as well be―he knows every line by heart.

Edward meets me after my last class and we walk toward the auditorium together.

"You never did tell me, are we a go for the dance in the play?" He throws his arm around my shoulder like he always does.

No one in school pays us any mind anymore. Of course there were rumors for a while that I was cheating on Peter with Edward.

And there was another one too, a rumor that said I was getting Peter back for cheating on me with Angela. I just heard that one the other day.

It wouldn't surprise me to be true.

"Yes, I think so. Mrs. Cope said she wanted to see it within the play to be certain."

I love the way that when were like this I fit so snug and perfect under his arm. It's like that space was made just for me.

"How about today?"

"You want to dance today?" I bump his hip with mine.

"I wouldn't mind dancing with you everyday, but yeah―I vote for today."He gives my neck a squeeze with his arm.

"How again is it that you can dance so well?"

"I was in Alice's dance company for years. I finally quit when I started high school. It was my mother's idea for me to have a hobby when I was growing up."

I stop walking and my chin falls open. "Who are you?"

"What do you mean?" His shoulders shake as he laughs at me.

"Just when I'm thinking I have you figured out a little, you throw these things at me, and I find yet another layer that I never knew about."

"Bella, it isn't that big of a deal."

"But you can dance, like really dance? All kinds of different dances, right?"

"Pretty much anything. I'm probably a little stale now but I used to be decent. When I was eleven I even worked for Disney as a dancer."

"Shut up! You were on TV?" Every day he amazes me with something new.

"A few times, mostly live shows though. And only when school wasn't in session. We know how my mom feels about that. Now come on, I have a surprise for you!"

Edward grabs my arm and pulls me but I'm still pretty much numb with wonder.

"Close your eyes." He stops me before we enter the back stage area.

"Why?"

"I told you I had a surprise for you." I can tell so much about Edward through his eyes, when he's pissed or aggravated when he's happy and in a joking mood, and days like today―when he seems to have the world in the palm of his hand and he's on top of it all and proud.

He covers my eyes with his hand and takes my elbow to lead me though the door.

"Surprise," he whispers as his hand slowly falls away from my eyes.

I see them and instantly, I'm shocked. It's racks and racks of authentic period costumes.

I take an unsteady step forward and reach out to finger all the velvet and the satin―dress after dress, suit after suit.

"My mother and Alice have connections. There will be people here later to fit everything."

"You did this for me?" I squeak out. I slide the hangers on the rack as I take my time looking at them. The outfits are so beautiful, so perfect, so much better than the handmade ones we were going to have to wear.

I turn around and launch myself into Edward's arms.

All my words are stuck in the back of my throat.

He seems to know though. He takes his arms, curls them around my lower back and he holds me. My feet off the floor, my arms around his neck, my face buried against his shoulder. He holds me until I calm down and my breathing rights and I feel like I can talk again.

I swallow hard and lift my head. "Thank you," I whisper into his ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

He slowly lets my feet find the floor but his arms are still around me and mine are still around him.

"You are more than welcome, Bella."

Then I kiss him. I pull him toward me with my palms on his cheeks and the tips of my fingers grazing his ears and I kiss him.

His lips mold against mine as they search for that exact fit.

My lips are closed but happy.

His are closed but responsive.

The kiss is innocent enough but it lasts and lasts. We start and stop and start and stop. It feels like the world tilts more on its axis and the earth's rotation speeds up a bit. I bet outside the sun shines brighter and somewhere a rainbow appears―that's just how perfect his kiss is.

It's just us but the room seems full, like I can't move, nor do I want to.

I don't know why I feel like I want to cry, but my belly starts to clench like I might at any second.

His hands are pulling my hips into him, and my fingers are running through his hair.

Breathing isn't a necessity.

Closer and closer we draw toward each other and at any point we may melt together.

His lips barely part to focus on my top lip and mine open to savor his bottom pout.

Nothing awkward, nothing wrong. Just sweetness.

Everything about me is screaming _more_ and _don't stop_ and _hell__ yeah_.

Everything except one little dark spot buried somewhere deep that urges me to stop before this goes too far. The part of me that wants to do this right and not when I have a boyfriend. Stop before I know how Edward feels and what he wants. Stop before I can't.

Even though that part is so tiny, I listen to it anyway and hesitantly pull away.

My hands like his cheeks so they continue to linger there. "Thank you so much."

He slowly releases his hold on my hips and his thumb comes up swipes away a tear that has escaped and is rolling down my cheek.

"Anything for you."

"There you two are!" Jessica says as she busts through the door. "Bella did you see all this! Oh my lord! This is so exciting..."

Everyone else files in behind her, all shrieking over the costumes.

I step away from Edward and he steps away from me.

Slowly the room fills and distance finds itself between us.

But in this room, somehow there is still just me and him. I know this because my lips still burn and my fingers still touch and I still feel him everywhere.

**/ / / **

Backstage is crazy with all of us running around in Elizabethan clothes, and the seamstresses are right behind us, making alterations.

I'm wearing this dress―it is the most beautiful deep color crimson with golden accents. It has beads and pearls and lace all over it. It fits tight from the waist up and the neckline has a square cut that shows a peek of my cleavage. The dress is long, it practically sweeps the floor and hides my feet.

I stand at the full length mirror and twist back and forth. This makes it feel much more real. This is really going to happen.

And it's going to be perfect.

I bunch up my hair and hold it up on top of my head. I turn around to look at the back of the dress in the mirror.

When I turn back around I see Edward's reflection in the mirror standing behind me. I spin around to check him out.

He's wearing this velvet jacket that's black with gold rope trim. It is open and shows the white ruffled buttoned up shirt underneath it. His pants are also black and very baggy at his thighs, but fit his calves snugly. He even has an elaborate sash tied around his waist.

He struts toward me and throws up his arms. He spins around once. "Well?"

"You are the best looking Lord Dudley I have ever seen." I pronounce with all honesty.

He winks and then looks me up and down. He reaches forward to cradle my sides, and slowly turns me back to face the mirror.

I'm now looking at him in the mirror. Watching as he seems to drink me in, taking his time, his eyes all over me. His hands still hold me from behind.

"Look at you!" He raises his eyebrows and nods his head.

I smile as I glance at myself and then at him. I shake my head, "No, look at us."

_**"Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river. ~Malagasy Pr****over****b**_

* * *

**A/N: ****If you pimp this, tell me so I can thank you properly. There's a time jump coming up soon & the 1st chapter will tie in.. ;)**

**I appreciate you all reading, even those lurkers!**

**~Stacy**


	16. Almost Time

**Chapter 16**

Here we are. Edward and I on stage, in authentic costumes, pretending to be Queen Elizabeth and Lord Robert Dudley. It is surreal.

I've read so many different stories of these two; I've watched every movie I could find, and now here I stand saying her words. Professing that I love this man with all my heart but in the end, love isn't enough.

Oh the irony.

Every day I feel it more. When he looks at me. When he holds my hand for way longer than necessary. When he recites Dudley's lines about love and devotion, he's speaking directly to my soul.

Or at least that's the way it seems to me.

And I'm scared. I have plans―big plans. If this scholarship goes the way I think it will, I could be gone from the states for years. Studying abroad is all I've ever wanted. I can't let a little thing called lust get in the way of my dreams.

It wouldn't be fair to Edward either. He's told me time and time again he can't wait to get out of town and head toward the east coast. He has family that owns a custom automotive shop and he's going to work there. His uncle has a job saved for him. That's his plan.

So why would we give into any chemistry that we may feel? Why would I dream about kissing him again? Kissing him harder, deeper? Having his hands touch every inch of my skin?

It would only complicate things.

When I leave the auditorium I remember that I parked my car in the D lot. That's one hell of a walk from here. At our school the auditorium with the main stage is a separate building from the school so that the city of Port Angeles can also use it for their functions. It's connected to our school by only a breezeway because of the frequent rainy days.

Lucky for me, it is a top notch place for a stage production.

When I get to the lot, Edward and all his friends are standing around his car. Emmett yells my name for me to join them.

They seem to tolerate me now that they know Edward helping me with this play is helping Edward stay out of trouble.

"What are you doing tonight, B?" Emmett asks as he flips my ponytail.

"Where would I go? It's a Monday night; I'm going to my house." I roll my eyes.

A few of the guys snicker at my answer, but I don't care. I'm watching the way Edward is looking at me. He's mad that I came over here.

"Why doesn't she come with us, Eddie boy?" Emmett throws his arm around Edward's shoulder and gives him a yank.

But Edward is stiff and doesn't bend. "No, she said she was going home. She should go."

Now I'm offended.

"Edward has a drag race tonight. You don't want to go watch?" Emmett throws his hands up as he asks me.

Edward is shaking his head no at me. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tight.

I turn to speak to Emmett, "No thank you Emmett. I prefer to not knock on the front door of death for a measly couple hundred bucks."

"Good luck," I say with thick sarcasm. Then I turn to leave and flee the scene.

This crap, I do not need.

He runs after me. Behind me I hear his feet pounding the pavement. "Bella, wait!"

I open my door and throw my backpack into the back seat.

Then I put one foot in the car and look at him. I'm not giving him a nice look either.

"Don't be mad. You just don't belong there. It's—"

I interrupt him, "No, no! You're right, I don't belong there. Goodbye, Edward."

I slam my door and he puts his hands on his hips.

I try my best to act like I don't even know he's still standing there and I drive away, not looking back, even though every part of me wants to.

**/ / /**

The next day I don't see Edward at school, but he shows up for rehearsals. He has a cut on his lip and a bruise on his cheek.

I immediately grab his arm and yank him into the bathroom to inspect him under the bright lights.

"Let me see. You have to bend down so I can get a look at your face!" I whisper–shout. I can't decide if I'm more pissed or worried.

He leans back against the wall and bends his knees to slide down it a little so he is eye level with me.

I notice that's it's not too bad, but it won't be healed by Monday when we open.

"It's nothing," he says in what I think is a remorseful voice. "But I won, and the guy wasn't going to pay. So..."

I interrupt. "Save it, Edward. I don't want to hear it. But you know we'll have to put makeup on it Monday before you go on stage."

"I hope not," he shuts his eyes and grumbles, which makes me giggle. He huffs out a deep breath and his head falls back against the wall.

Something about seeing him down and hurt and defeated, makes my resolve to be tough crumble.

I rub over the bruise gently with my finger. It doesn't feel like it should be purple, and it doesn't feel sore to me when I touch it. Instead, it feels like man and desire and sin.

"Why'd you go and mess up your pretty face?" I barely touch the red cut above his lip. My finger lingers for way too long against the swollen pink of his lip.

I can tell he's looking at me. My body's doing that reacting thing it does in response to him.

"You think my face is pretty?" His voice has an edge to it, an edge I find myself clinging to.

I nod and ball up my fist, forcing my fingers away from his skin.

"You know, yours isn't too bad either." He reaches out and curls his finger through the belt loop in my jeans.

Just like that everything slams into my chest. The yes and the no's. The reasons we shouldn't do this and the reasons I want to more than anything. I circle my arms around my chest to keep from breaking from the battle of confusion and desire.

"Edward, what are we doing?" It's a plea in the form of a whisper that's heavy and thick and hard to say.

His feet slide forward on the floor to encase each side of my legs, while his backside slides down the wall a little more. He slides his hands around to grab onto each side of my waist and pulls me in to stand in between his legs. His head falls forward on my shoulder, finding a place to rest.

"I don't know Bella. I just don't know."

And there we stand. His head on me. My arms wrapped around myself. His hands on my sides, holding me. Nothing is for certain or defined**―**just that we want and we need, and yet we don't.

**/ / / **

The rest of the week passes by way too quickly. Everything seems to be rushed and unorganized, even though it's not.

I'm a bundle of stress ready to explode.

I spend all weekend at the auditorium going over lights, and camera angles, and musical interludes. I don't even get the chance to think about my feelings for Edward or Peter.

It's safe to say I'm ready for this production to be over.

Then it's like I blink and it's Monday night and the seats in the auditorium are filling up. Backstage is a flurry of activity as fellow cast mates run left and right.

My breathing speeds when I hear the roar from the crowd finding their seats.

But I'm not the least bit nervous. In fact, I'm too excited because this is really it. Everything I've worked toward.

I'm standing to stage left, dressed and ready, listening to the narration when I see Edward walking toward me. His steps are slow and unsure. He looks wonderful. His hair is combed, his costume flawless, and his eyes are sparkling.

He stops when he sees me. His smile grows and I feel the stir in my heart and just like that I know.

It's more than friendship, it's more than lust. I am in love with that boy. Head over heels.

What a time to come to that realization.

"Wow, Bella. You look amazing." I smile and nod at his words.

"You look so handsome." I respond. I want to hug him, to have him hold me and get me to that place where he makes me feels like everything's going to be all right, but there isn't enough time.

"And that dress makes your tits look fabulous!" Edward points to my chest and instantly the awkward is gone as I laugh.

He grabs my hand and links our fingers. I focus on that, on how good we look together, and how right it feels, even though everything about us points in an opposite direction.

He lifts our hands and kisses my knuckles. "You're going to do great," he whispers as our eyes begin to get lost in the other.

"So are you," I squeeze his hand and nod.

"Let's do this," he says with a wink and then he leads me on stage and the rest of my life begins.

"_**Love is something you can't describe like the look of a rose, the smell of the rain, or the feeling of forever." ~Zadie Smith**_


	17. Opening Night

**(play dialogue follows, I hope it is clear WHOM is speaking)  
**

**Chapter 17**

He lifts me high above his head and twirls me around slow. As he lowers me, my hair tumbles forward to graze his shoulders, creating a curtain hiding us from everyone.

It's just us anyway. It's been this way all night; if we're sharing the stage, the crowd disappears, and he and I own it. Neither one of us stutters or chokes on our lines. Our words are sharp and on cue, his eyes can lead me, direct me, and they do every time.

I don't even feel like myself.

I can't stop smiling at him, especially now while we're dancing. I've never been so happy in my life.

The music slows and the volume quiets so the crowd can hear the dialogue over our dancing.

**Unnamed Court Attendee #1:** [referring to the Queen and Dudley as they dance] "_All men need something greater than themselves to look up to and worship."_

"Your smile is beautiful. I haven't seen it leave your lips all night." Edward whispers in my ear as the play continues around us.

**Unnamed Court Attendee #2: **"_And thy Queen is great. Make no mistake, mark him doomed. For being loved by the Queen will cripple __the soul of any man."_

He leads me in an open twirl, then a swirl back toward him so I can fold into him with my back to his chest. His arms are around my waist and we're still dancing with slow side steps.

I want to tell him a thousand things. I seriously don't know where to start. But as soon as I turn my head to the side to try and say anything, he whirls me back around to face him.

And just like that our dance is over, but it was magnificent perfection.

"Thank you," I mouth as I pinch each side of my dress and curtsy.

He wraps one arm around his waist and bows low to me before he takes a few steps backward.

I stand motionless as I watch him walk away.

It's part of the stage directions, as to we are to mingle with the others at the royal ball, but I'd rather Edward not be so far away.

Soon enough we're standing on opposites sides of the stage as the ball continues. I'm waiting anxiously because I know our part is coming.

Edward approaches me from the right and grabs my elbow.

**Lord Robert Dudley**: **"**_May I see you in private?"_

I act like I'm aggravated as we move to a part of the stage that is supposed to be away from everyone else. I jerk my arm away. **  
****  
****Queen Elizabeth:** **"**_In private?" _I laugh."_Have you forgotten Lord? I am the Queen now, I know not of private any longer." _

Edward and I are standing face to face, we are so close our toes are touching and the hem of my dress is covering his feet**  
**

**Lord Robert Dudley**:_ "Why would __the__ Queen not take mine hand in marriage? Is my love not worthy of a Queen?"_

I swear of it, I don't know what changes, what's going on in Edward's mind, but his expression is so serious and sad. His eyes seem lost and distant. It reflects back on me. I hurt.

**Queen Elizabeth: **_"Stop it! I will not have you speak to me as so. Love is not the issue. __Thine__ wife however__,__ is."_

He takes my hand, and not like every other time when we've rehearsed this when our hands were merely cupped together. No, he has my fingers so they fill the space in between his, and he holds my hand securely―like he wants to make sure he has a hold of me.

If he only knew.

Edward licks his lips and looks down at the floor, seemingly stalling before he looks back up at me, and I see it as plain as day―that sadness lurking deep in his eyes.

_**Lord Robert Dudley:**_** "**_My Queen, my wife is sick, she is dying from malady of the breast and after__ward__, I __shall__ not be married. In the eyes of the Church and the eyes of my God, I will be free to marry my one and only true love. I will be finally free to marry __thee__."_

His voice is shakier than normal.

I squeeze his hand.

_**Queen Elizabeth: "**__Ahh, wouldn't one think it smart to marry their true love first?" _

I keep in character and pull my hand away from his. Our arms stretch to meet the other until the distance is too much and our hands fall away from the other. I walk away from him and speak toward the crowd.

"_Thou__ speak__est__ as though marriage is so simple and easy. I am the Queen of England, I can not marry for love alone, for I am already married to England and __thou__ ha__st__ to understand__―__for me nothing is simple__,__ nor easy."_

I am not standing alone in the center of the stage for long. Edward follows me and links our hands again. When he does, I feel an urgency, like the adrenaline that courses through your veins when you take shelter from an impending storm. I can see the front moving in. I can feel the rumble of thunder deep in my bones, but I don't know how close it's going to come.

He gently falls down on one knee. His eyes are closed and he presses his cheek against the back of my hand. Slowly his face turns toward my closed hand, his nose brushing against my skin until his lips find purchase there. His lips linger on my hand and his kiss brands my skin.

My breath gets caught in my throat; I've never felt such a flood of emotion all at once before.

_**Lord Robert Dudley:**_** "**_Thou__ may find a greater prince, but __thou__ shall never find a more loving prince. I swear of it."_

He says the words so slow and loud. It's like he's not even being Lord Dudley any longer. His words seem to have a deeper meaning than that.

He slowly turns his head again so that my knuckles graze against his cheek one last time. Then he looks up at me and I watch as he clenches his jaws and his lips pucker as he blows out a breath. He shakes his head left to right one time before he speaks.

"_On my life." _

The curtain closes and I don't have time to dwell on any meaning or innuendos. As it always has been said, 'the show must go on.'

Everyone begins to scramble around for the next act, including me, but I don't forget the way he made me feel.

**/ / / **

The whole cast has taken the stage after the final act. We're all standing in a row bowing and waving. I feel so accomplished! We did it and with very few errors too.

The crowd is on their feet clapping and cheering.

I also am so relieved.

Edward pulls me out of line and leads me to the center of the stage alone. He turns to face me and lifts his hand. I bow again and cover my face with my hands. I don't need these acknowledgments, but I wave and blow a kiss.

He steps forward and hugs me. It's a casual and friendly embrace, but it makes me feel complete.

"Congratulations, Bella," he says with his head turned toward my ear, right before he releases me and steps away.

I almost reach out for him, but everyone crowds around me instead.

**/ / /**

All the cast mates, still dressed in costumes, move to the foyer to meet with their families afterward. My mother and father quickly find me and lavish me with hugs, as does Jacob.

"Bella, that was the most wonderful thing," my mother says through her tears as she dabs her cheeks with a Kleenex.

Dad, Jake, and I all roll our eyes.

"Is it time to leave yet?" Jacob mumbles to dad.

"Hush! This is your sister's day!" Dad gives him the 'be-quiet' eyes.

"Dad, it's over. You guys can leave whenever you are ready," I say as I hug my dad again.

"Yes!" Jacob hisses.

"I must congratulate the star."

I spin around the see Mr. and Mrs. Cullen and Edward approaching us.

Edward is staring at the floor. I wonder if it's because the last time I saw his mother was when I was delivering his drunk ass.

Mr. Cullen reaches me first and shakes my hand. "Bella, I am amazed at what you have accomplished here. I thought I was watching professionals. And the faith you extended to Edward... Thank you so much."

"Thank you for allowing him to help me." I turn at look at Edward. "I needed him."

Then Mrs. Cullen steps forward and hugs me. She is the same height as me and her hold is gentle. "Thank you Bella, for everything." She pats my back and steps away.

My parents begin to talk to Edward's parents and soon we are weeded out of the conversation.

I take small steps around the circle our parents have created and reach out for Edward's hand.

I pull him to stand beside me at the wall right behind where our parents are. "We did it."

"Yeah, we did." He leans up against the wall, his hand still cupped in mine.

I lean down and look up to his face. "What's wrong with you?"

His head snaps up from looking down at the floor. "What are you talking about?"

"Edward, we just finished something really great and you look like your puppy just got ran over. What gives?"

"It's nothing." He shakes his head.

I yank on his arm. "Come on, Edward. Talk to me."

He looks all around us and shakes his head again. I notice that our parents are saying their goodbyes.

"Not now, not here." He sighs.

"Then come to my dressing room before you leave. I'll be here late. Okay?" I let go of his hand.

He nods and takes a step away from me.

"Bella dear, I think we're leaving. I can't wait until tomorrow night." Edward's mother reaches out and touches my arm.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Cullen. I'll see you tomorrow."

My parents also tell me they're leaving. "Will you be home anytime soon, hon?"

"I don't know Mom. I think Jessica is having a little get together at her house to celebrate. We're excused from school tomorrow so I may go. Don't wait up."

"Just be careful and get plenty of rest. You don't want bags under your eyes with those bright lights in your face." She hugs me and leaves.

I look around for Edward, but I don't see him. So I go back to the dressing room and begin to hang some of the costumes that are lying around.

Everyone is leaving and backstage is clearing out. As they go, they hug me and tell me how much fun it was and how good it went and how they can't wait to do it all over again.

As the night gets later and later, Edward is all I can focus on.

When it seems that I need to give up waiting on him and go home, there's a knock on my dressing room door.

Then, he says my name and I can't get the door swung open fast enough.

I practically leap into his arms and instantly, he sweeps me away. I'm in his hold, my arms wound around him so tight.

He lifts me up and carries me inside and slams the door shut.

I don't even realize it but I'm crying into the skin of his neck. He's shushing me and rubbing my back.

I don't know which way is up or down, or what is right and wrong. I just know I don't want him to let me go.

**_"Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain." ~Unknown_**

* * *

_What's wrong w/our Edward? =(_

_I puffy heart reviews b/c they inform me what you think!  
_


	18. Second Guessing

**Chapter 18**

He carries me over to a stool and sets me down. "Bella, please stop crying."

I fist the shirt on his back tighter. "I can't," I say in a hiccup that makes me start to laugh and cry at the same time.

He slightly pulls away and grabs a handful of tissues off the mirrored dresser. He hands them to me and I wipe my face.

"What's wrong?" He brushes my hair off my shoulder, showing me he cares in ways that I really want him to.

I shrug. "I don't know, everything? I just feel like... a pile of shit."

He bends down to eye level with me. "You're not a pile of shit."

We both giggle and somehow I just know I can tell him anything. That I can be me and spill my fears and he'll listen and understand.

"No really?" he asks as he moves to stand in between my legs again.

I look down at his hands resting on my open thighs and I fiddle with the tissues in my hand. I don't know where to start.

"What if I get it?"

"The scholarship?"

I nod. "Yeah, and then I leave." The tears start to burn my eyes again. "I've never been away from home and my parents, much less across the world. Edward, I've never been on my own before."

I reach up and use my tissue to dab away a few stray tears that have fallen.

"And what if I change my mind and I don't want to go anymore? What if I find a reason to stay?" I put the idea out there that's been on my mind for weeks.

He shakes his head. "There is nothing that should keep you here in this bum-fucked town, Bella. Nothing."

I look straight at him. He has to know, he simply has to know what would keep me here.

"Promise me Bella, that if you get offered that scholarship you won't even think twice." He squeezes my legs right above my knees and I want to break.

I don't know what to say? Should I be reckless, say what I feel, or should I be smart and say what I'm supposed to say?

Nothing is easy to confess when there's a huge bubble of emotion lodged in my throat. When I finally swallow it down, my words come out in a scratchy whisper, but at least I say what I feel, "What if I'm already thinking twice?"

"Don't you do that!" he grumbles through clenched teeth.

"Look at me." He puts his palms on my cheeks and forces my head up so we are eye to eye. "Follow your dreams, Bella. Listen to this." He points to my temple. "What is this telling you?"

I shake my head. I grab his hand and pull downward until his open palm is on the skin above my heart. "This is talking louder, my heart... it knows what it wants."

"Dammit!" He jerks his hands away and they land back on my thighs. He ducks his head and shakes it back and forth. He's mumbling something that sounds like 'wasn't supposed to happen.'

He stands upright and takes a deep breath, his shoulders square. He looks at me with resolve, like he's come to some sort of decision. I can't read him, I have no idea what he's going to say. It's frightening.

"Tell me Bella, what does your heart want?"

The answer comes so easy, it's been perched at the tip of my tongue for days. So I say it, let it go, make it known. "You."

His shoulders slump and his head falls back. "I'm no good for you, Bella. You know that. You deserve better." His voice is gentle but his words are harsh.

I fist his shirt and pull him closer. "I'm sorry you think that way, but my heart disagrees."

He shakes his head and breathes out in a huff. His forehead wrinkles and when he finally looks at me, his eyes are so sad.

"Bella, I'm sorry but no matter what, I'm still leaving. In four weeks, I swear of it, I'm never looking back." A single tear rolls down his cheek.

I watch as it falls off the sharp corner of his face and lands on his shirt.

I wonder if that tear says it all; what I feel, what he feels, how unforgiving time is and how unlucky two people can be.

My heart already winces from the cut and burn of losing him and he isn't even mine. This beautiful boy is going to run and not even my love will hold him here.

I decide to take what I can get.

I open my fists that are still grasping his shirt and make my palms slide up his chest. His t-shirt bunches and gathers along the way.

I can't about think that he may reject me, nor can I think that he won't. Instead I lose myself in the feel of him under my fingertips, his dips and ridges. His abs and his pecs.

My hands reach his neck and continue upward until I'm cupping his cheeks and my fingertips are grazing his hair. His skin goes from soft to rough back to soft, and always so hot to the touch, like a fever of desire. Then his hair, unruly and velvety, like wrinkled silk between my fingers.

I swipe that wet tear tract off his cheek with my thumb so it will be like it never existed, as it should be.

I still want to tell him a hundred things. I want to praise him and tell him how worthy he is. I want him to know that I don't care who has been before, or what he plans to do, and that I accept him like he is now. I want him to know that he is what made this play; I couldn't have done it without him. I want to tell him that I only want what will make him happy and if that is leaving, so be it.

But I also don't want him to know how much it might kill me inside, so I find something simple and easy to say. "Will you give me just one night then? No promises." I focus my vision on my fingers as they slink back and disappear in his hair. "No guarantees, no pretenses. Just you, just me, just tonight and then we'll both move on like it never happened?"

His head falls forward so his forehead is resting on mine. His eyes are closed but his hands are moving up and down my thighs. He's holding back.

"What if that won't be enough for me?" he whispers and I sense his walls crumbling.

I tilt my head back to kiss his forehead, my lips lingering against his skin as I speak. "It'll have to be. Please, Edward."

Suddenly all in one motion, his hands stop their constant motions and he wraps my legs around his back. His hands lift my ass off the stool and he picks me up.

I squeal and wrap my arms around his neck as he jogs us over to the door. He pushes me up flush against the cold steel and my legs fall from around him, searching for the floor.

He looks down at me. His chest is heaving. Our bodies are parallel to the other. I feel every solid inch of him covering every quivering millimeter of me. He has one hand on my hip and the other on the door knob. "Are you sure about this?"

I nod rapidly even though I'm not sure about anything.

"I don't want to hurt you and I never wanted to hurt this." Slowly and with slight pressure his hand moves from my hip, up my stomach, over my breast and stops where is my heart is flailing wildly in my chest.

I watch his eyes darken as he drinks me in like a man dying of thirst.

It's a freeing feeling to acknowledge that our souls are bare and open. No walls or boundaries. No false pretenses or unattainable expectations. Just a boy and a girl and a crazy want that can't be ignored or denied.

"Do you feel that?" I put my hand over his and push down. I want him to understand how insane my heart reacts to him. How my body melts and my mind gives up trying to comprehend and think.

I hear the click of the knob as he locks the door, it's loud and practically echoes off the walls. That clink and the sound of our breathing is the only noise around, but that's enough to fill the silence.

"Bella, please just say it. Tell me this is what you want. I-"

I don't give him time to say whatever it is he's going to say, instead I silence him with my lips on his.

Within seconds, he responds. His body relaxes against mine, his mouth opens to claim me, his tongue finds me to taste.

It's sweet heaven.

My arms circle around his back, pulling him in closer, blurring out our edges.

His hands slam up against the metal door on both sides of me and he whimpers. His knees bend trapping me in the best of ways.

Kissing him is like standing on the edge of the world. It rivals all my favorite things rolled into one. A morning blanket of new snow. A song I can't live without. The sun on my skin. The scent of the ocean and the sea mist wetting my face.

It's the kind of kiss that I could never speak about out loud.

It's the kind of kiss that rendered words to describe it meaningless and useless.

It's the kind of kiss that confirmed I'd never been so complete in my whole life.

It's the kiss that proves I hadn't really been kissed until now.

His kiss is my everything.

_**"Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby." ~Langston Hughes**_

* * *

_Well? Do you feel it? We're almost there. Next ch has already went to beta's, this one was supposed to have more but it just kept going & going... What do you think? So many of you was correct about how Edward is feeling but he's not one to make his feelings known..._

_I need to thank Rose & Missy, they make this what it is, I swear of it. _


	19. Kisses And Rain

**Chapter 19  
**

He tilts his head and kisses me deeper. My lips feel his need and take the pressure of his mouth. I drain his air and give him mine. His tongue wets my lips, slides against my teeth, and I give in to him. I kiss him back hoping he feels half of what I'm giving.

He wraps his arms around me again, pulling my hips into him. I feel him hard and thick against my lower stomach. I melt a little more.

There is no denying that he wants this too.

We stumble and walk backward, finally reaching the green couch that's probably older than mine and Edward's years combined. The back of his knees hit and as he falls to sit, he pulls me down to straddle him. Our lips never parting.

I land on him with little resistance.

It's never been like this for me, to want another so much, for my physical body to actually ache with longing.

His hands find the hem of my shirt and soon after, the bare skin of my back. The hum he makes as his hands glide over my skin shimmies down my spine in a wonderful cascade of tingles.

I have forgotten how good it feels to be touched hot and needy, to be wanted in return.

He lifts my shirt and quickly it's over my head and tossed into the floor.

He pauses when he notices that I'm not wearing a bra. His smile turns devilish and his eyes narrow. He shakes his head.

I raise my eyebrows and return the favor of stripping his shirt.

I watch as his Adam's Apple dips and rises in his throat as he looks me over.

He lifts his hand to skim over my naked collarbone, his touch so slow and soft, I'd think I was imagining it if I didn't see it as it was happening. My skin breaks out in goosebumps. My breathing is ragged and heavy and my whole body responds as he teases me.

He cups both my breasts and leans forward to place a small open-mouthed kissed in that tiny hollow of the center of my chest. His thumbs graze my nipples as they react to his touch.

His hands and his mouth cause a spark in me, one that radiates down to my toes and back up, not missing one nerve ending along the way. He is the flame and I am the fuse.

Then he looks up at me, his hair in disarray from my fingers and his discarded shirt. His eyes so dark and lustful. His lips swollen and red from our kisses.

All I can think of is how much in this very second I want him.

I reach for the button of his jeans. With a hard tug I have them unbuttoned and open. I slide backward and stand up and crook my finger for him to follow.

In the mean time I push down my shorts with ease. I let them fall and then kick them off with a flick of my foot.

He tosses his jeans to the side and they land on mine, covering them. The irony isn't lost on me. It's like this room is our oasis, we are hidden and alone. Nothing else matters but us. Just Edward and Bella.

Edward grabs a couple of covers and a pillow from the prop shelf. He quickly opens up a blanket and makes us a makeshift bed in the floor.

He grabs my hand and pulls me to join him as he sits in the floor on the blanket with his back up against the couch.

His chest, his arms, his legs, his stomach all nude and warm against my chest and my arms and my legs and my stomach. Skin on skin, craving the other.

He leans forward, his lips open and the slick tip of his tongue finds the sensitive skin under my ear. Slow and steady his mouth starts to unravel me.

My lower body starts to move in small circles searching for friction. My arms are clinging to his neck, holding him to me but needing more. My body needs him closer, so tight that not even air can come in between us.

"What was it you said about getting off on just a kiss?" His voice is gravely and hoarse and low as he speaks directly into my ear.

His teeth graze my lobe and it almost seems like too much. I take over and grab his face, meshing his mouth with mine and kissing him with all the life I have.

We kiss fast and messy, as if time is fighting us and we are losing. His hands grip my hips, so tight I may have fingertip bruises on my skin. He pulls me in harder to him, his strong against my weak, his hot against my wet, together we search and grind and pine and need.

He knots his fingers in my hair and pulls my face away from his, "Stop! I'm too close."

He rises up on his knees and I scoot backward and lie down on the floor. He pauses there, above me, looking down. His eyes hooded and lazy. His lips red and wet from my mouth. The epitome of teenage lust staring back at me, wanting me.

Without looking away from my face, he hooks his fingers in the sides of my panties and pulls them down my legs.

I fight the urge to reach out and grab him and pull him down on me. Sometimes the anticipation of his touch is worth the wait, but it's not easy.

I sit up and run my fingernail along the waist band of his boxers. His skin responds and his muscles flex. He grunts when I give them a firm tug and pull them down over his hardness. My hand opens to touch him and he pushes himself hard into my palm.

I twist my wrist around him once and suddenly he's pushing me backward and kicking off his boxers and hovering over me before I can blink.

He holds himself above me and looks down at me again. I drown in the emotions lurking in his eyes.

Gently, he lowers and rests his weight on his elbows. I feel teased. Not enough of him is touching me.

I want to wiggle and squirm, he's right there, it seems with just a small slip, he would fill me and I would be complete. But Edward is too strong, too heavy, and I can't make it happen.

"Bella, are you sure about this?" He twists a strand of my hair away from my face.

Then it kind of washes over me what I'm about to do. Cheating, sex, Edward. But the want is too much, the need is too great, and I don't care about the rest.

I nod and reach out for his face. I pull him down to finally cover me more. His tongue trails along my bottom lip and his hand slides down my hip and then my thigh. His fingers curl around the back of my knee and bend it as he settles in between my open legs.

"I don't have a rubber," he says against my open mouth all the while I'm still trying to burrow into him.

With a half mind I answer, "I'm on the pill. Please, Edward!"

He resumes his kisses. I breathe only him and he breathes only me. It feels like the air around us is charged, every hair on my body seems to be standing on end. I wonder if he was to say my name, would a spark ignite from his lips. If with too much of a friction against me, we might explode.

He pushes into me and I want to unravel. Instead, I wrap my other leg around the back of his, his weight now resting perfectly in the cradle of my passion.

He's still holding me open with my other leg and I don't know whether to push against him or pull him in deeper.

Then we start to rock together. At first it's slow and gentle and quiet. All grunts and moans and uneven breathing.

The sound of skin against skin fills the room. That sound fuels the need.

We speed up and lose rhythm, but now it's frenzied and wild.

He buries his face into my neck.

With one hand I tangle my fingers into the hair of nape of his neck, with my other I reach down to that dip right above the swell of his butt and I push down. I need more. The ripple of ecstasy has begun to crest in the core of me; it pushes and gains energy as it waves through my body. Back and forth, it sizzles at the tips of my toes at the same time it peaks at the tip of the crown of my head.

I lose myself in Edward and his motions, and the feeling of heaven he gives me. In this blip in time, I am no longer myself, I am his.

He stiffens and I feel his mouth open and wet on my shoulder. I pull and pull and pull at him to fill me, complete me, give me all of him. However brief.

He makes one final thrust before he shudders and his body goes limp. His relaxes on me and his weight gets heavier. He starts to roll off me, but I shake my head no. "Don't move, not yet."

"Just a little, I don't want to suffocate you." He shifts anyway.

We trade places, him on bottom, and me lying on him as much as I can. My head is right over his heart, I close my eyes and listen to the sound of life it sings.

Neither of us say anything else for several minutes as we recapture our oxygen and our thoughts.

One arm is wrapped around me holding me to him, the other folded up under his head. Our bodies are damp with a sheen of sweat and I'm sure the evidence of our sex is thick and wet between my legs.

But I never want to move, never leave this bubble we've created.

"I tried to call Peter and break it off with him, but he didn't answer. But I want you to know I'm going to. I don't love him anymore." I rub along the plains of his chest as I talk. My guilt is settling in.

"You don't owe me any explanations, Bella, nothing would make me think less of you." He runs his fingers through my hair as he talks.

I lift my head and peek up at him. He's staring up at the ceiling and seems a million miles away. I miss our bliss already.

"What's going through that head of yours?" I ask.

He huffs through his nose and looks over at me. He tries to smile, but it isn't real; it doesn't light up the room. "There are so many things I want to tell you, but I don't know how." His voice is barely above a whisper, but his words seems so loud.

I understand. I feel that same. It's those walls and the future that guards us and makes us think twice and hold back.

"It's all right. You don't owe me anything either Edward, but thank you for this, for tonight, for everything."

He chuckles this deep laugh that makes his chest rise and fall quickly.

"And we get to do it again tomorrow!" I giggle as I settle back down onto his chest.

"I want you to know that you make me wish I was a better person. You make me want to change and ... even to stay. And I when I'm with you I don't know if I'm coming or going. You make my head spin."

I smile against the bare skin of his chest. I turn my head and place a small kiss right above his heart. "Edward Cullen, the feeling is mutual. You make me crazy."

He continues to brush through my hair with fingers and I find myself sinking deeper into him. "Go ahead, get some rest."

I nod and give up the fight. Being here, in his arms, naked and wrapped in a sheet, is my kind of paradise.

Too bad it has to end.

**/ / /**

Sometime in night, I'm awoken by rain pelleting the tin roof and a deep thunder sneaking though the darkness. Edward and I are tangled like the roots of an ancient tree. You can't tell where he starts and where I begin. We are one. We are sturdy and strong.

I can't go back to sleep after that. There is too much thinking and worrying to do.

I pass the hours by studying him as he sleeps and how innocent and young he appears as he dreams.

I think about how much I would like to change my past and turn back time.

How I would like to always have known Edward the way I know him now.

I try my best to not think about tomorrow or next week or what will happen in a month when we graduate.

But it's almost impossible.

**/ / /**

Very early the next morning, I wake him. We need to leave before people from school start to arrive.

We're both hesitant and quiet. I dread leaving him, leaving this.

My brain continues to remind me of all the things I wish it wouldn't; about Peter, about the scholarship, about Edward leaving, and that whatever this is between us isn't going to last.

He kisses me one last time in the doorway before we try to run out into the pouring rain.

"I'll see you in just a little while." Then his lips briefly peck my forehead before jogs out to his car.

I don't even say goodbye. I just let him leave.

I scramble out to my car and jump in the driver's seat before I get soaked anymore.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, but I'm startled when there's a knock on my window.

It's Edward and he is sopping wet.

He opens my door and pulls me to my feet and into his arms.

We're standing in the downpour, his hands on my neck, and the longing between us frayed and deep. I look up into his eyes and it's like my whole world has flipped and everything is put into a new perspective. I can do things I never thought I could do. I can want things I shouldn't want.

It's like I just know I want to be with him forever, hold him in my arms, kiss him, and tell him how he's changed me and my life and my everything.

Then I remember that it's not going to happen and for some reason, I just can't comprehend that.

We might as well be on the edge of a cliff, contemplating the consequences of the fall, yet my heart feels like it has already jumped.

He leans down, his nose brushes against mine and our lips mold together again. So sweet, so loving, so wrong, and so right.

If only I could manipulate time.

We stand there, wet to the bone, and for just a minute, not a care in the world but us. And as he kisses me, I wonder how in the middle of a rainstorm, I feel like I am burning alive.

**_"True love is like teardrop in a rainstorm; you're lucky enough to find it once, but you'll never find it again." ~William Louie_**

* * *

**__**_This was the hardest chapter to write! Ugh! Thanks to all who is reading & reviewing & not reviewing but still reading! The next chapter has what so many of you has asked for! You will get some answers! I'm thinking no more than 25 ch total. _

_Talk to me..._

_~Stacy_


	20. He's Back

**This chapter is for SUNFLOWER3759, she was relentless with her need & her encouranging messages for me to update this fic. **

**There's a special treat mentioned in the ending A/N's, don't skip over them.**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

As I walk through my front door—clothes wet and hair stringy—I realize I don't even remember driving home. My mind must have been a million miles away.

There's this odd ambiance I feel. It's hard to describe, but I feel like I'm floating—everything is so light and happy. I'm sure that's the new love that I'm harboring for Edward.

But then there's this pang, this sting that randomly shoots through my heart and ricochets around in my chest. I literally have to take my hand and press down against my breastbone to get it to go away.

That's my storm cloud, the doom of what I've done.

There's isn't anyway to sugar coat it, or make it less wrong. I cheated on Peter. I fell in love with another guy _and _cheated on my boyfriend. I became _that _girl, one that months ago I would have called ugly names in my head after I had heard what she'd done.**  
**

And with Edward Cullen, no less.

I put my shower off to later and plop down on my bed atop the covers. Everyone is still asleep. The house is quiet except the thunderstorm that rages outside.

And here inside my four walls, it feels like the floor may collapse from the downpour of my emotions.

I can't close my eyes, because I see Edward panting above me as he comes undone. Looking at me like I am his last meal. Making me melt and soar and desire like never before.

But when I keep my eyes open and I look around this room, I see Peter. He helping me study at my desk. He, taking a nap on my bed. Our junior prom picture that hangs on my wall amongst a bunch of others I had made into a collage. The spot on my wall when he accidentally threw his Popsicle and it splattered and stained.

And it hurts me, because no matter what, he didn't deserve this. I thought I was a better person than this.

Yet the proof is in the pudding.

/ / /

My nap is shit. I don't sleep well at all even though my body feels so drained and tired.

After my shower, I pick up my cell to call Peter. I have to talk to him now. This coil of guilt is weighing me down. I need to get rid of it.

But of course, he doesn't answer. I leave him a message to call me as soon as he can. Then I text him the same message, hopefully he'll get the point that I need to talk to him pronto. I wanted to talk to him face to face, but I just don't know if I can wait that long.

I still have a few hours to wait before I'm due back at school but I am so restless, my stomach is in knots.

When my cell rings and Edward's name appears on my caller ID, it's amazing how quickly I relax and calm.

"Hey."

"Hey Bella, are you busy?"

"No, no." I sit straight up and pull my hair back, but I'm not sure why. It's not like he can see me. "Just hanging out until I have leave. What are you doing?"

"Missing you." He answers so quick and sure that I honestly believe him.

I can't stop the smile that starts in my belly and wiggles its way up to my lips.

Then there's a bunch of commotion on Edward's side of the line. It sounds like he covers the phone with maybe his hand, and I hear him mumble for someone to shut up. It sort of sounds like a party wherever he is.

I'm almost jealous.

"Sorry. Emmett's being a stupid fucker." A door slams and it's instantly quieter around him.

"It's okay. I'm glad you called."

**"**I wanted to hear your voice and... make sure you're all right?" His voice is low and deep, I close my eyes and picture his face. **  
**

I hum a uh-huh. "I'm good, a little nervous about tonight I think."**  
**

**"**You'll do perfect, just like you did last night."**  
**

I'm sure I blush a little even though I'm still alone in my room.**  
**

"You will too," I answer then I remember how sad he sometimes looked last night. "You never did tell me what was wrong with you."**  
**

He makes this noise and I don't know if it's a grunt or a laugh or what. "Well, I was a little preoccupied."**  
**

I shake my head and cover my eyes. I imagine him standing wherever he is, all cocky and proud.**  
**

"I mean while we were on stage. Please tell me what was wrong," I beg a little, refusing to let him change the subject.**  
**

"Shit Bella, it's nothing really. It just kind of hit me while we were up there performing, that it's—you know, almost over."**  
**

After his admission, I seem to sink down deeper into my bed. Ugh, more bleakness, more emotion.

It's true—the realization hasn't left my mind for a second either. The impending sad truth is a constant nagging that's nipping at my pride and my excitement over the play's success. I guess it helps me some that he feels the same way.**  
**

"I know, it's bitter sweet, isn't it?" I exhale.**  
**

"I'm not just talking about the play, Bella. I mean …more than that. High school, youth, this life as we know it…" he sighs, "…us. Everything is numbered; the countdown has already started. Honestly, I never thought I'd care, but..."**  
**

"But you do?" I interrupt. It's silly that him caring makes my insides resemble half formed jell-o.**  
**

"Yeah, about some of it I do." He's quiet for a second and then I hear voices behind him again. "Listen, I've got to go. I'll see you real soon, like in little over an hour all right?"**  
**

"Okay, I'll see you at school." I want to say more, something significant, something real, but nothing comes to mind.**  
**

Then I hear silence coming from Edward's end and the chance to confess that the thing I don't want to change and lose most is him, has passed.

/ / /

I'm pacing in my costume on stage. Edward isn't here yet, he must be running late. I keep peeking through the curtain, hoping I'll see him run in through the front doors. Then I turn back and walk the depth of the stage praying I'll spot him in the back.**  
**

But time keeps winding down without him.

Suddenly, I hear the back door slam. I almost trip trying to run to the rear most part of the stage to see if it's him.**  
**

When two ordinary arms circle my shoulders and pull me close, I freeze. I can't move. I don't even know how long we stand there, I am immobile and shocked. **  
**

"Bella, baby! I missed you so much." He says through my hair.

Like a slap in the face, the awareness that the all too familiar touch of Peter doesn't comfort me like it used to, instead it irritates me.

I squirm and push out of his arms, it's a place I don't belong any more. "Peter? What are you doing here?"**  
**

"Well, that's not the greeting I expected." I see the hurt in his eyes and instantly I feel bad. The guilt I've been carrying around since last night rises thick inside me, I can't push it down and I fear it is written bold and dark all over my face.**  
**

"I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard." I try to back track although every bit of me feels like I should set him straight right now. "I didn't expect you."**  
**

His hands go to his hips, "Did you expect someone else?"**  
**

I peer around him, Edward still hasn't showed. Peter turns to see where I'm looking.**  
**

**"**Peter, it's almost show time and I haven't spoken to you in over a week. I didn't know and I'm busy..." I try to distance myself and walk around him, but he grabs my arm.**  
**

He doesn't even give me a chance to explain. "It's Cullen isn't it?"**  
**

I feel my face redden and my eyes begin to burn. I'm not sure what to say. "W-what?" I manage to choke out in a forced breath.**  
**

**"**He told you, didn't he?" Peter lets go of me and covers his mouth with his hand. "Shit, Bella! I'm sorry. He told me..." He kicks at the floor and closes his eyes tight. His hands are in fists and I am so confused.**  
**

I'm lost, like a blind man without a cane in a white-out blizzard kind of lost. I don't know what he's talking about. "Peter?"**  
**

**"**Edward told me he wouldn't tell you about her."**  
**

I feel my stomach drop. It shatters and bounces around at my feet. His words are not making sense, even though I think I know.**  
**

**"**I swear to you, I'm trying to stay away from her now. It was just a few times and when Edward heard me talking that day, he thought I was referring to you."**  
**

My face burns hotter.**  
**

**"**What did you say?" I demand. Tears are slowly streaming down my face and I feel disoriented. I have no idea what to feel. I just need answers and explanations.**  
**

**"**He told you didn't he?" Peter's voice rises.**  
**

I stomp my foot. "Just tell me what did you say?" I all but yell.**  
**

**"**Fuck!" He turns away before slowly turning back in my direction. "I said something about her having a tight snatch and Edward... he pushed me hard backward. I fell over the park bench outside. Like a crazy man, he jumped on top of me screaming at me to keep my mouth shut and not talk about you like that. He looked like he was going to hit me and I told him it wasn't you... That I wasn't talking about... you." Peter's eyes are full of tears.

My arms are wound around myself tight, my insides are trembling with confusion and anger and relief. There was someone else and it was me Edward was defending.

But still, I want to know. **"**Who.. who was it?"**  
**

**"**Bella." He tries to step closer and I back away.

"Tell me, Peter." **  
**

**"**Angela." He says it so cold and sure and so easy.**  
**

I close my eyes. I feel like such an idiot. I should have pushed. I should have known. "How long?"**  
**

He takes a deep breath, "On and off since the summer, but Bella, I love you and I never wanted to hurt you. You're my best friend."**  
**

I shake my head and correct him. "I _was _your best friend. We haven't... Peter, why didn't you just let me go?"**  
**

The tears start to seep from his eyelids. "I can't."**  
**

The fury multiplies inside me tenfold. "You don't have a choice anymore! I've been calling you for days to break up with you! We don't belong together. Our time is over! You're not the same Peter I fell in love with. We've grown and we've changed and I'm so tired of pretending." I keep trying to dry my cheeks, but the tears keep spilling over.**  
**

**"**Bella, please don't." His arms are reaching out for me and his hands are still seeking mine. I keep backing away, putting the distance between us that we so need.**  
**

**"**No, we're done. Just stop." I raise my hands at him.**  
**

After a few minutes, I finally steady my breathing and my tears end. Peter is still standing in front of me. His face is so pale and his eyes are so sad. It doesn't affect me in the least.**  
**

**"**I have to go fix my makeup and find Edward, it's getting close to time to begin." I turn to walk away.**  
**

**"**Wait, Bella."**  
**

**"**What?" I seethe through my clenched teeth and spin back around to face him.**  
**

**"**Edward's gone. I saw him outside and told him I was back. He said he was going to come in and let you decide whom you wanted to be by your side tonight, but..."**  
**

I take off in a sprint and leave Peter standing there. My huge dress is a bitch to run in and it's all I can do not to trip and rip it.

But I feel an urgency like never before. **  
**

He can't be gone.**  
**

He wouldn't leave me hanging like that.**  
**

**"**Edward!" I scream his name as I reach the double doors that lead outside.**  
**

**"**Edward!" I shout his name as I stand in the parking lot and search out his car.**  
**

**"**Edward!" I cry his name as I fall to my knees realizing that he really is gone.**  
**

He left... me.

_**"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."**_

_** ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**_

* * *

_Have faith, don't give up on me, and don't assume anything!_

**If you want to know **what was said between Peter & Edward outside**, review this chapter, I will send you EPOV in an reply. BUT YOU HAVE TO BE LOGGED IN to FFn! I am still wavering if we will ever get a full EPOV, so this may be all you get...!**

And go...

~Stacy


	21. The Aftermath

_**A/N: The response to the last chapter was OVERWHELMING! There were some of you who were not signed in to FFn & I couldn't send you the Epov, if you still want & didn't get, lemme know. **_

_**As always, Rose & Missy are the sugar to my spice. **_

* * *

**Chapter 21**

I can't believe he's gone. He's nowhere to be seen. It just doesn't seem real. I keep expecting him to drive back into the parking lot, to run to me with open arms and tell me he's sorry and that he'll never leave me again.

But this isn't some Hollywood romantic movie, this is real life—my life—and instead of Edward, I get Jessica.

"Bella! There you are! Get up girl. Peter's here and Dudley is his part anyway, you know this, now come on! Mrs. Cope is going over the changes in stage directions with Peter. It's almost show time, hurry up!" **  
**

She bends down to help me stand up off the concrete, but something inside of me feels dead and heavy and doesn't want to move.

Sluggishly, I let her get me to my feet but when she starts to tug me toward the building, I am rooted solidly in my spot.

Jess huffs and lets go of my hand. She steps around to stand directly in front of me. "Bella, Bella, Bella." With a slight brush of her fingertips, she tries to fix my hair back in place, then she wipes a few stray tears off my cheeks. **  
**

I look into her eyes and see my old best friend standing there taking care of me. It hits me hard that I don't really know her anymore and I miss her, especially in times like these. She always was a good one to lean on. **  
**

"What are you doing, Bella?" she says under her breath. **  
**

All I give her is a shrug. **  
**

"Sweetie," she shakes her head, "he really is gone. I mean—what did you expect anyway? It's Edward Cullen for goodness sakes. Leaving is what he's best at. Now, straighten up. You have a story to act out to a packed audience. Get yourself together, you hear me? You don't need him, Bella Swan."**  
**

I nod knowing she's right but not caring very much. Sometimes we want the wrong things. Sometimes the wrong things make us happy, make us smile, make us feel alive. **  
**

Even after those wrong things leave and break our heart, we still want them more than anything.**  
**

/ / /**  
**

Peter meets me backstage before we are to take front and center for the first time tonight. He tentatively smiles at me as I approach him. **  
**

I still want to punch his face. Repeatedly. **  
**

He cocks his head to the side and I lose my cool. **  
**

"Don't you dare smile at me like that. Your days of smiling at me are over! Just so you know Peter O'Reilly, once this play is finished, I don't ever want to speak to you again!" I clench my fists so tight my knuckles ache. **  
**

"Bella…"**  
**

I take one step closer and point my finger right in his face. "Don't you Bella me! We. Are. Finished...forever!" I notice that my hand is shaking so I slowly lower it and take a step back. I don't want to be this upset before show time. I try and take a few calming deep breaths. **  
**

But I need to get this out of my system, I need to tell him how I feel. "Peter, how could you do this to me? You are so not my friend. You, of all people, know how much these performances mean to me and I now you are the one who is going to ruin it all for me. You. I hate you for that right now. I hate you for that even more than I hate you for cheating on me. It sure is a good thing everything was so perfect last night, I'll at least have that to send in."**  
**

I can't even stand to look at him right now. I have no doubt that going on that stage opposite him will be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. **  
**

If only I had a choice.**  
**

/ / /**  
**

"Bella, darling it wasn't that bad. It wasn't as good as last night, but if I hadn't of seen it before with you and—"**  
**

"Mom, please stop. I know last night's performance was better, but I can't do anything to go back and change tonight now. It's done. Over. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Please."**  
**

I can feel the tension curling up and pulsing through my body, growing with every passing minute. I just want this day—this week—this play to be over already. I try to find relief by massaging my temples, but it's going to take a hell of a lot more than that to make me feel better. **  
**

"Do you want to go grab a bite to eat or something? You're starting to look a little pale." She takes one of those frustrated, shallow breaths that sound like a sigh. She's almost done pushing. **  
**

I know she's about to give in and let me be. **  
**

"I'm not hungry."**  
**

"Well, I need to get home to your dad and your brother, what do you say to a quick ice cream stop on the way? Your choice." She picks up her purse and shrugs at me.**  
**

What's wrong with me can't be fixed with frozen milk and sugar, although it sure would be nice if it could.**  
**

Nice try, Mother. **  
**

"No thank you. I just want to be alone for a little while if that's alright?" **  
**

"Okay." She nods and walks toward the door. She pauses and turns back around to look at me. I see the worry painted all over her face. She's good at giving me space, even when I don't even know if I want her to. "Are you gonna be okay, honey?" **  
**

I take a deep breath and try to smile at her. I nod, "Yeah, I will be."

But as soon as she clicks that door closed and I am finally alone, it feels like my insides might tumble out onto the floor from the gaping hole in my chest.**  
**

It hurts so much.**  
**

How come everything was so perfect just twenty-four hours ago? How can it all fall apart so fast? **  
**

Tonight's performance was awful. It really was so bad. It didn't help that I was on the verge of tears all night. And Peter may have known every single line of his part, but he kept forgetting all the stage directions. Most of the time he was scrambling around the stage floor like he was walking on ice.**  
**

And to make matters worse, Edward never showed. **  
**

Why me? **  
**

And now here I am, back where just last night I never wanted to leave. **  
**

I look around this room and I see Edward everywhere. Us everywhere.**  
**

Our covers are still out, folded into messy pile on the couch. The chair cushion he used last night as a pillow still lies haphazardly in the floor. **  
**

I look at the door and a whisper of his kiss tickles my lips. I glance at the couch and my heart races remembering his roaming hands. I close my eyes and see us tangled together in the floor, and all I know is I feel like I just want to break. Or crumble and cry and thrash and scream. Or do them all in tandem, over and over again. **  
**

But I don't. **  
**

I don't do anything but sit here numb in this dressing room chair. Cold. Lost. Scared. **  
**

Alone.

In the worst of ways. **  
**

/ / / **  
**

Not too long after my mother leaves, I decide I should just go on home. But as soon as I start to gather my things, there's a knock at the door.**  
**

I swallow hard and my breathing speeds. My stomach feels like it's trying to crawl up my throat. And for a second it feels like my legs aren't going to work. **  
**

Last night rushes through my memory again. Maybe Edward has been thinking about it too. Maybe he has come back to me. **  
**

I want to believe it's Edward so much. I want to use all my wishes I've ever wished, take them back and trade them in for this wish, right now.**  
**

Please, let it be him.**  
**

But I also try not to get my hopes up. I try not to run to the door. I try to hold back from swinging it open so fast it practically rips off the hinges.**  
**

I close my eyes and with a deep breath I pull the door wide open. When I squint my eyes to see who's standing there, the last of my strength crashes, my knees give out, and she catches me. **  
**

"Bella, sweetheart, I'm so, so sorry."**  
**

**"**Is Edward all right?" I somehow choke out through all the fear that's consuming me. **  
**

She nods, "Yes, yes he's fine. He's just gone, honey."**  
**

Mrs. Cullen holds me as I cry—silent, stomach convulsing, brokenhearted sobs. She brushes through the ends my hair and rubs over my back. She whispers 'shhhs' and 'it'll-be-okays.' Her arms cradle me and allow me to feel and mourn and pout as much as I want. **  
**

She leads me over to the couch, but I can't—I don't want to sit there, so I slide down to the floor instead. My back pressed up against the couch—our couch, and my arms circling my bent knees. **  
**

"Mrs. Cullen, I'm sorry that I just lost it on you like that." I try to dry my face off.**  
**

She slowly and carefully squats down in the floor to sit beside me. "Call me Esme, please, and don't you dare apologize! You have every right to be upset, Bella. I just hate this so much for you. You didn't deserve it in the least!"**  
**

"So where is he?" **  
**

She shakes her head. "I don't know yet. Carlisle is out looking for him. We didn't know he was gone until the play began and it wasn't Edward up there." **  
**

"Well how do you know he's okay then?" I start to panic again. **  
**

**"**Because I just know. This is Edward we're talking about. He disappears often." **  
**

I'm shocked and confused and still concerned. **  
**

She reaches over and pats my knee. "He's safe Bella. He's just running like he always does. He may be my son, but I'll be the first to admit he has a hell of a lot of growing up to do. And I'm sorry you got hurt from his immaturity, but I'm not sorry I got to watch you and him on stage last night."**  
**

**"**I want you to know that tonight wasn't my choice. Edward was the one who should have been up there with me, not Peter." **  
**

"Wasn't Edward Peter's understudy to begin with?" she asks. **  
**

"It doesn't matter. Peter didn't earn it, nor did her deserve it." I sigh "He didn't even transform into Lord Dudley like Edward did. Edward owned that performance." **  
**

"Hmm," she smiles. "Edward was good up there wasn't he?"**  
**

I nod and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself and think happy thoughts. It's not easy.**  
**

She bumps my elbow with hers. "It's because of you, you know? All you did for him. You believed in him, you had faith in him. You challenged him. You get all that credit, Bella. And you were magnificent up there too, like a well-seasoned actress if I do say so myself."**  
**

"Thank you Esme." I say with sincerity. It means a lot to hear that from her. "Last night was wonderful and perfect and I couldn't wait to do it again, but…"**  
**

She squeezes my knee, it's like she knows I'm about to break down again and I need a comforting touch to hold me together. "I know, Bella There's a lot going on inside that boy's head. He has one too many demons to shake. I told you, he runs away all the time. It started when he was young. He'd hide for hours when he got in trouble or his feelings hurt. As he got older it became longer, it went from being gone all day to disappearing for weeks at a time."**  
**

**"**Really?" This is something I never knew about Edward. **  
**

**"**He used to worry me crazy. Then I realized it's just who he is. Usually after a night, he'll call and tell us where he is and that he's okay, but he'd rather run and push whatever is bothering him away, out of sight out of mind, than to stay and deal with it. One of these days running will catch up with him."**  
**

Esme settles in a little more to my side and takes my hand. "Two years ago, my mother had a stroke. She went downhill fast. Nana and Edward were really close. In the hospital she woke up a few times, but she wasn't coherent. She didn't know who any of us was and it broke Edward's heart. He just wanted to tell her goodbye and that he loved her, but she wouldn't even speak to him."**  
**

I see the tears pooling in Esme's eyes. I tighten my fingers in between hers. **  
**

**"**The day she died, I think he lost his most favorite person in the world. He refused to go to the funeral or anything. When we got home that evening from the burial, he was gone. He had run away to a friend's house and they traveled out of town. They drove to the coast. And Edward never said why, but I think that's where his most prized memories were with his Nana. It scared me that he was gone for so long. But he did come back. He just needed the time to mourn in his own way. Now his father, he wasn't so understanding." Esme uses her free hand to wipe her cheeks. **  
**

**"**But everything has been different since then. Somehow, he's been even more closed up than usual. He's sour, angry at the world. He keeps everyone at a distance, including me. Now, all he ever talks about is leaving this town, leaving home, never looking back. It hurts, but if that's what he has to do, that's what he has to do." She shrugs and shakes her head. **  
**

Then she turns toward me a little more and cups her other hand over our linked hands. "But Bella, these past few months that he's spent with you, I got to see a little of my ol' Edward back. The sweet boy who used to pull my own flowers out of my own flower bed and bring them to me in a paper cup! Root, dirt, and all! The Edward who wasn't afraid to feel and be happy and to care. You gave me that again, however fleeting, and I thank you for that. Honestly, I think Edward found a new favorite person in the world." She raises her eyebrows. **  
**

I understand what she's saying, but it still doesn't make sense to me. "Then why would he just bail on me like this?" **  
**

She bites her lip and seems lost in thought for a moment. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say it's because he's so scared. He doesn't want to love because he doesn't want to hurt. It's too hard for him to separate the two. Ever since we discovered his dyslexia, he's been building these walls around himself, pebble by pebble. He was always afraid of ridicule and being thought of as dumb. He used to cry that he just wanted to be normal. Then somewhere along the way, his feelings of fear turned to anger. And he just wanted to tell the world to screw off. He made good face that he didn't care what anyone thought of him. He wanted everyone to think he was indestructible. But the truth is, he just never let anyone in—until you."**  
**

I smile and a tiny sob bubbles up in my throat. "Esme, I fell in love with him."**  
**

She releases my hand and pulls me in for a hug. "I'd bet all the gold in the world, that he feels the exact same way."

_**"A rose must remain with the sun and the rain or its lovely promise won't come true." ~ Ray Evans**_

* * *

_**Does this help? Do you understand E a little better now?**_

_**I look forward to your reviews!**_


	22. EPOV ch 20

**NOTICE:: This is Edward's Point of View from chapter 20 that I emailed to the people who asked for it at the time of posting! **

**I'm posting it now b/c more have asked for it. This makes it easier on me, since I have a tendency to get behind. The next regular chapter should already be up!**

* * *

**EPOV, Outtake from ch 20**

I've been anxious all day to see her again. Right after I watched her drive away this morning in the pouring rain, I've felt incomplete. Hollow. Lacking.

It's as scary and uncomfortable as fuck. I honestly am not sure that I like it.

So to pass the hours, I surrounded myself with my gang, with Emmett and Rosalie, and with a few of our other regulars.

We smoked a few joints. We threw back a few beers, and finally I could relax. The ping pong of the longing and need for that girl that resides in my gut mellowed out, and I could function.

But I still want her in ways I can't even explain.

/ / /

Emmett's Jeep wouldn't start so I help him get it going, but in doing so, I'm running late in getting to the auditorium.

I take the quickest shower I can and speed all the way to the school.

When I finally pull in the parking lot and see Peter lurking around Bella's car, it's all I can do to not pound his face into the pavement. Just being in his mere presence pisses me off.

What in the hell is he doing here anyway?

And I wonder if Bella even knows.

I count to twenty and remind myself that I'm on probation. I can slowly feel my anger leaking from my pores and turning into disgust. I think about how much fighting him now would disappoint Bella and even my parents.

It doesn't take me long to remember that he's not worth it.

"Hey Cullen. I'm surprised to see you here. I figured you would have bailed out on Lord Dudley by now."

My fingernails dig into the meat of my palm as I squeeze my fists.

I approach him slowly. "What are you doing here, Asshole?"

Peter straightens his back before he answers me. "Screw you, Cullen. I'm here for my girlfriend. She's been calling me all day. I thought I'd surprise her. She needs me."

"Dumb ass, you do realize this play started last night don't you? Where were you then?"

He shakes his head and shrugs. "Doesn't matter. I'm here now."

The urge to knock the know-it-all smirk off his face is so hard to ignore. "You're wrong, I don't think she does need you. We got by just fine last night."

"Wait, you're my understudy, right?" He bends over in laughter. "Ahhh, come on Cullen. Who are you trying to kid? She needs me. M. E. Her boyfriend. Let's go in and ask her. You'll see."

He walks past me but my anger has my legs locked stiff and my feet glued to the ground.

"Sure, let's go." I yell after him. "Let her decide who can be her main man tonight. But I have no doubt she won't be your girlfriend for long. I bet she already knows about your little side piece of ass."

He stops walking, then he turns back around and stomps toward me. "You had better not broken our agreement Edward. You said you wouldn't say anything to Bella if I didn't press charges against you. I fucking had to beg my parents not to."

"Back off Peter," I step toward him and poke this chest. His toes mush and lodge under mine. Like the coward he is, he hunkers down and backs up. "I didn't say shit to her, but she's too smart not to know what you're up to."

Peter's panting like he just ran a marathon. "Oh, I get it. You have a thing for her don't you? Man, this is priceless." He walks in a circle before facing me again.

"You're right about one thing, she is very smart. Too damn smart to fall for the likes of you. What are you going to do, Cullen? How are you planning on supporting her when she flies halfway around the country? You gonna go win a race and send her a crisp fifty? You gonna tell your friends to take a hike when she calls upset because she's homesick? Are you going to write her a love letter every fucking day declaring how much she means to you?"

He takes a few more steps back away from me and toward the building. "Oh, that's right. I forgot, you'd have to learn how to write first."

He throws his hand up at me dismissing me before he turns around and jogs toward the auditorium.

I am so pissed that tears are burning my throat. Holy hell, I want to destroy something!

I don't even care that he's so stupid thinking that I can't write. I care more about what he said about me and Bella.

I've known for a long time that Peter has been cheating on Bella. But I didn't want to be that guy, the one who tried to turn her away from her boyfriend. I would've much rather she came to the conclusion to see him for what he really is on her own. And after the past few months and especially last night, I think she does.

I wipe off my face and take a few deep breaths and run toward the back doors to the auditorium.

Peter thinks he's a fucking genius telling me that Bella deserves better than me. Shit, I already knew that. I even made a point to tell her I was still leaving after graduation. I don't want her to change her plans for me. I can't offer her diddly-shit and I only want the very best for her. She needs to follow her dreams.

I open the back door and as soon as I walk through it, Jessica gives me a push backward. "You're the understudy and the leading man is already here. Get over it, Edward. You have to go sit in the audience or find a spot to stand backstage—out of the way. Shoo."

I shove past her big-ass mouth and immediately my eyes land on Bella.

In Peter's arms.

I can't see her face, but I don't see her reacting to him. She's not kneeing him in the balls or planting her elbow into his nose, both of which he deserves. She isn't pushing him away nor is she leaning into him.

She's just standing there.

And with a blink of an eye, the reality of the situation crashes down all around me. That fucking asswipe is right—I don't belong here. My feelings toward her don't matter for shit.

It only takes a split second for my walls to build and heart to harden.

I have no desire to travel down the road of love and heartbreak. That's for pussies.

Fuck this.

Fuck all this.

Fuck this city. This school. This play. And that girl.

I'm out of here.

_**There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go. ~Tennessee Williams (Thomas Lanier)**_

* * *

(This wasn't about a misunderstanding and could have been fixed if Edward just talked to Bella, this was about Edward taking the easy out. Please know that. More will be revealed soon. Understand that all Edward needed was an excuse to bail...)


	23. Beginning of the End

_**A/N: I know, I'm behind on EVERYTHING! Please hang in there, ch 23 should be up in a few days. Slowly but surely, I'm getting my shizz together.**_

* * *

**Chapter 22 **

The next few days at school it's hard to focus when all I do is look everywhere for Edward. Every door that slams, every loud voice I hear, every noise that grabs my attention sends an instant zap of energy through my veins and for just a blip in time I hold out that it's him.

Unfortunately, it never is.

I even approached Emmett and Rosalie and asked if they had talked to Edward. They both said they hadn't heard from him either, but I wasn't sure I believed them. I definitely could tell they didn't like me invading their space. To that group of friends, I was still the enemy, an outsider. I even heard that Rosalie said I ran Edward off because I was playing games with him, that I was stringing him along until the play was over.

If I thought it would do any good I would march right up to Rosalie Hale and tell her straight up to her face that that was the farthest thing from the truth.

But she would probably kick my ass anyway and still wouldn't believe anything I said.

Not even after I told her that I don't play such games of the heart and that I never meant to hurt Edward―not at all. And who knows what she would do if I told her I fell hard for him.

No doubt she'd murder me.

But I was desperate, so much that at least once a night, I called his cell number. It would ring exactly six times before it went to his voice mail with a generic message. Yet it that brief suspension of time, when I counted those rings, hope bubbled up. I psyched myself up every time that this could be the time he finally answered. When he didn't, I was no more saddened than I was before. I simply reminded myself I could try it again tomorrow.

The rumor mill worked overtime spreading lies about Edward, Peter and I. How we had a threesome before I dumped Peter, and Edward left. Or how Peter kicked Edward's ass and Edward ran away because he was so scared. Or how I fucked one in my bedroom and then fucked the other in my bathroom. Or how Mrs. Cope had to cancel the final night of the show because of all the fighting between us.

Just take your pick of which you want to believe even though none are true.

I was finally to the point where I could ignore them all; their words were nothing to me.

Early Wednesday morning a strong thunderstorm had passed through the city. There was a tree that had fallen on one of the generators right outside the building, leaving the auditorium without any power. The final night of the performance had to be canceled.

Mrs. Cope had left it up to me and the rest of the cast, asking if we wanted to reschedule the last night. Unanimously we decided not to. It was best to call it complete.

Everyone among us could tell the magic was gone.

No sense in pretending.

/ / /

Friday afternoon, as soon as the bell rings, I take off in a rush to the dressing area in the auditorium. Esme is coming today to pick up the costumes. When I had talked to her Tuesday night after the play, she'd promised me that she'd let me know when she heard from Edward.

He's been gone for days now and she hasn't called me yet. I am hoping that maybe today she would have some news.

As soon as I round the building, I see a white van backed up to the side door and people are already loading things up.

I can't find her soon enough.

"Bella, there you are. I was afraid I was going to miss you, we're almost done. Follow me." She takes my hand, leading me toward my dressing room.

We stop at the closed door.

My patience is running thin. I want to yell at her to just tell me something already.

She takes a deep breath before she takes my other hand in hers.

"He finally called home, Bella." Her voice is very flat and her eyes are dull. She's not even smiling anymore, not even a little.

Now, I'm not so positive I want to know.

But I do.

"And?" I ask with a squeak.

"It's not good hon. He just... he's in a really bad frame of mind right now. He'd barely speak to me and when he did, his voice was so sharp and cold." The corner of her lips rise in what I'm assuming is supposed to be a reassuring smile, but I don't feel very assured.

"Wh―," I swallow and force down the knot of emotion that's lodged in my throat. "What did he say?"

She shakes her head and looks down at her hands still holding mine.

When she looks back up at me, a single tear rolls down her cheek. "He said he's not coming back."

She whispers it low and soft, but somehow it still echoes off the walls of the empty hallway.

Panic instantaneously overcomes heartache. Fear trumps worry. Hopelessness creeps in, filling all the gaps. "What do you mean? He's not coming back this week? This month? What? And what... what about graduating? What about his car? He can't mean…"

She squeezes my fingers to stop my rambling.

"Bella, he said he's never coming back."

My whole being then takes on this feeling, it's like it's empty, but heavy. Dead, but alive with hurt. Lost, but knowing exactly where I am.

"He said he doesn't care anymore about the car or about school. I begged him to just come for four more weeks to graduate, Bella. I offered to set him up with correspondence classes to finish out the year..." Her shoulders slump and she shrugs. She looks at the ceiling and shakes her head.

But this is his mother begging him―surely he would listen to her. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he can't." No sadness in her voice. No anger. Just blunt and to the point.

Yet those four words might as well have been poisonous daggers shot straight into my heart.

"He can't? It's because of me, isn't it?" I choke out as I feel the whirlwind of heartache increasing its speed inside my chest, effectively tearing me apart.

"Bella, honey, he didn't say anything like that, I promise. He barely said anything at all. Listen to me, before we hung up he told me that he may come back to pick up a few of his things that he had forgotten. But he said that he didn't want to see anyone. He doesn't want any kind of drama or trouble. I had to swear to Edward that Carlisle and I wouldn't pressure him to stay if he stopped by. I'm sorry."

"Oh," is how I respond because it's all I've got.

"And Bella, as a mother who loves Edward with everything I have, there's a part of me that wants to urge you to not give up on him. But as a woman who also cares for you, I don't want to see you hurt anymore. I want you to be happy. Do you understand? I can't promise you anything."

I nod once.

I hear her sigh beside me, but my mind is sort of in a fog right now. I've never felt so... so... sad and defeated.

"There's just one more thing, Bella, before I leave." She opens the door and motions with her hand for me to go inside.

I take a few steps in and what I see there in the room stops me dead still.

It's haunting and it's beautiful.

I approach it with caution, as if I could hurt any more than I already do.

My fingers trace over the beads on the bodice. I pat down the lace. The memories of a few nights ago come alive with color and sound. Different than they were just this morning or last night. Different than they were on Tuesday when I had this dress on while on stage with Peter. I can practically feel Edward again beside me.

Now, it's almost a tragic shadow inside my soul.

My eyes are overflowing with tears. My chest aches. My legs want to buckle.

I hear her move closer behind me.

"I want you to have this dress, Bella. You are simply radiant in it and the way I see it, I don't think it would do anyone else any justice."

I can't stop touching it. I just want to somehow feel again a tiny bit of that magic like when I tried it on for the first time. Or when Edward and I were on stage. Or when he took my hand in his. Or his lips touching mine in front of the world.

I close my eyes and silently beg for some sort of that leftover energy to pass through my fingertips and leak into my soul. Energy to once again let me feel something positive and give me hope. Give me something to look forward to. Give me something to believe in. Just give me something.

But of course I get nothing. Only my needy wants and wishes clouding up my reality.

"Thank you so much for this." I refrain from falling into the dress and burying my face, using it as a pillow to pass the night.

"No, thank you. I just wish I had more to give you, Bella. You are a wonderful person inside and out. Don't let yourself think differently." She reaches around me and her fingers dance over the material beside mine.

"Let this be your reminder that you're going to do great things with your life. This right here - this was only the beginning. I believe in you, Bella. Edward believes in you too, he's just too confused to realize it. "

I nod, not knowing what to say.

"Well, I have to get these costumes back before five, so I have to leave now. Don't be a stranger. You're welcome at our house anytime, alright?"

Her hand drops from the gown as she turns to walk away.

"Esme," I cry as close the short distance between us and throw my arms around her.

"Oh honey, don't cry." She hugs me back and for just a minute she wraps me up with her comfort. It doesn't take long for me to get myself together.

"Will you please keep me in the know about Edward?" I step back from her and wipe my cheeks. "I have to know he's doing okay."

"Of course." She squeezes my hand one more time before she takes a couple of steps backward toward the door again.

Her hand reaches for the knob, I watch it in slow motion. She's my last tie to Edward. She's the closest thing to him I have. It's unsettling to watch her leave. As the door inches open I yell out her name again.

She stops and spins to look at me. "Yes?"

She has a small smile on her face, that smile confirms that if she - Edward's own mother, can get through this―then so can I.

"Tell him I miss him," I say as I try to smile back.

"Done. Goodbye Bella." With a nod, she turns and walks away.

Once again all that remains is me and my dress, right along with my broken heart and my shattered dreams.

We are all one and the same and all we want is what we can't have, which is the way it was before. Our yesterdays and our last weeks. A time when things were easy and right. Unbroken and straight. We want what was good.

And what is gone.

/ / /

"Bella, you have a visitor!" my mother yells from the living room.

This entire weekend, I've stayed holed up in my room. Peter has been calling repeatedly so I finally turned off my phone.

I don't want to talk to him.

But now, with someone at the door, and my mom being all elusive by calling them 'a visitor', it better not be Peter.

I might lose my shit on my mother and Peter if it is.

"On the porch." She nods from behind her book.

I tentatively open the door and when I see that it's Mike, I'm relieved that it's not Peter but disappointed that it's not … someone else.

"Hey." I pull the door closed and step out onto the porch.

"Hi Bella. I brought you these." He hands me a small stack of what I assume are my copies of the play. "I tried to hurry and get them edited and stuff. I figured you had some sort of deadline to meet."

I nod as I take them from him. "Yeah I do. Thanks."

Mike stands there awkwardly, his hands are moving as though he's talking but he's not saying anything.

He huffs and his hands fall and slap his thighs. "Bella I just want to say I don't agree with what Peter did to you. You didn't deserve it. And I want to apologize for not stepping up as your friend and telling you about it. He kept telling me he wasn't going to mess around with her anymore. I'm sorry. "

"Mike, no. I understand. I'm not upset with you. Your allegiance was with Peter, I get it."

He shakes his head. "That's not a good enough excuse."

"Maybe, maybe not." I chuckle. "But seriously, no hard feelings, Mike, and I really appreciate you doing this for me. Thank you so much." I lift up and wiggle the DVDs in my hand.

"Your welcome. I actually enjoyed doing it. I made four copies for you to do whatever with. Good luck on getting the scholarship and everything, Bella. And I just have to say that even though I hate what Peter did to you, he is still my best friend. I thought you should know that he regrets what he did and how it all went down. He misses you―your friendship and stuff. I, personally, would like to see you two as friends again if that could ever happen." Mike takes a few steps backward down the stairs.

"I don't know, maybe someday." I shrug. "Thanks again for this."

"I'll see you tomorrow at school." Mike yells and throws up his hand as he jogs down the sidewalk to his car.

I go inside and head toward the sanctity of my bedroom to torture myself with watching the videos.

I bring my laptop over to my bed and quickly settle in while it powers up.

I'm anxious to see what Mike has put together. He had told me that he would splice together all the best scenes, but knowing that he's Peter's buddy makes me think he wouldn't even use any of the parts of me and Edward even though I know they were better than the scenes with Peter.

When the movie starts to play, I find myself transfixed.

There we are. There is no Peter to be seen. He only used Monday night's performance.

Only Edward.

And me.

My heart goes crazy in my chest. I can't take my eyes off him.

The way he looks at me.

The smile on his lips.

How he watches me when we're on separate sides of the stage.

How good we look hand in hand.

The perfection that was our dancing.

That kiss.

I spend the rest of my day and night, burrowed under the covers with my laptop close by and that video on loop.

Every time I watch it I see something I didn't see before.

I can't explain the way it makes me feel. There's joy and pride and love and perfection. There's also pain and hurt and longing and tears.

I just don't understand how Edward could so easily run away from what he had. Especially now that I have the proof he felt it too.

But I guess it just wasn't enough.

/ / /

On Monday, my mother sends a copy of the video and the accompanying essay that I wrote months ago to the scholarship committee.

All we have to do is wait.

I will have an answer in a little over three weeks. Right about the time we graduate. Then, if I get it, I will have three more weeks before I have to leave.

Not soon enough if you ask me.

/ / /

Weeks pass. The end of the school year looms and graduation day quickly approaches.

With just one week left of school I can walk the halls of school with my head held high. I can ignore the whispers and the snarls. I can laugh off the crazy gossip that keeps circulating. I can make it five more days.

What I can't seem to do is forget him, get over him. Let him go.

Not that I want to entirely.

But I dream of Edward. Every night.

My subconscious mind keeps him close, near, and safe.

When I wake in the mornings for just a few blissful seconds, there's no weight in my chest, there's no crack in my heart, and I'm not left behind any longer.

I smile, every morning and I wish to go back to sleep and dream some more. I love that peaceful feeling. I want to harbor it all day long.

I keep teetering on these warped and skewed lines of emotions.

Some days it doesn't hurt as much, I guess little by little, I'm beginning to embrace the reality that he really is gone. Those days I can appreciate what we had. I can grin about it. I still wish for closure, I still yearn for the chance for more with him - even simply a friendship. I still glance at my phone a lot hoping for a call or an update. But I never forget.

Other days, I get mad. Those days, I want to hate him. He's a coward. He's wrong on so many levels and he obviously didn't feel toward me half of what I felt for him. Otherwise it wouldn't have been so easy for him to walk away. To make his parents worry like that! To quit school with only four weeks left! Maybe I'm more pissed at myself for being so love struck, for being a fool. For letting him in and making me feel so crazy. But I still don't forget.

Sometimes I even realize that Edward Cullen has a lot of growing up to do and he leaving is for the best. That I'm probably better off without him. But I can't forget.

Honestly though, I don't have enough of those mad days, those days when I want to move on.

What I do seem to have too many of is those small fragments of time that creep up on me everyday when it's a struggle for my feelings to not rip a new tear right through my chest. When it feels like my heart is actually hollow and broken. When I just want to cry.

When I want to forget him more than anything.

I try to keep my mind busy. I make lists of things I will need to take with me if and when I leave. I double check those lists and then rewrite them. With just a few days of school left, I've even begun to fold up stacks of clothes that I might take with me.

I stay up late with my eyes on the television and the volume turned up loud so my mind doesn't have the time to pause and wonder and think too much.

I count the hours until I won't have to go back into that school, walk those halls, and see that auditorium.

Soon enough, that time comes.

**_"A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain." ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_**


	24. Highs and Lows

**Chapter 23**

One of the good things resulting from the ending of mine and Peter's relationship is that Jessica and I are talking more. Slowly we've been reconnecting and filling in some of the gaps of lost time.

She told me that she has a boyfriend who's already in college and she only gets to see him on weekends. They talk on the phone every night and seem to be very much in love, but in between all that, she has been there for me to lean on.

In reality, we'll both be headed in different ways soon. She's staying here and going to a technical college for a two year program. So I tell myself I don't want to get too attached and dependent on her, just to have to walk away again in less than a month if I happen to get the scholarship and leave.

But I have enjoyed what little female bonding time we've shared.

I've also learned how she knew so much about Edward and his family. Her uncle Ryan is one of Edward's racing buddies and he's also usually the one who accompanies Edward when he leaves town.

I quizzed her to see if she knew where they were now. She hadn't heard recently, but she told me that most of the time they just get in a car and drive until the road ends. That they would sleep right there in their car and then drive again when the sun comes up until they ran out of cash. She told me about the time when she heard they hitchhiked across Arizona and once when they pretended to be a professional singing duo at a country bar for tips.

"Bella, you can't hold on to a guy like Edward. His heart is wild and his roots are weak. I told you, leaving is what he's good at. I can't count the times his mother has come by our house upset and worried sick. He's a dick for doing that to her and doing the same to you. I'm sorry, I guess I should have warned you from the beginning."

I open my car door and put my bag down in the seat. "No, Jessica. I'm not so sure I would've listened to anything you could have told me about Edward Cullen. I swear, it's like I knew a different side of him, this ...other guy who was caring and sweet and nice. He was kind of perfect. Now, if I can just figure out how to get him out of my head."

"I promise you this, someday soon you're going to meet some wonderful, gorgeous guy and he is going to be so happy that Edward Cullen was such a dumb-ass and walked away from you." She puckers her lips and points her finger at my face.

"Jess," I whine and grab her finger.

"Anyway, tomorrow's finally it, the last day of high school for us. For...forever. Can you believe it?" She looks back behind us at the old brick building that has been our second home for the past four years. She playfully swings our hands that are still entwined.

I shake my head because it is sort of difficult to grasp the reality that I'm about to graduate and move away and start a whole new chapter in my life.

The life I know of today will be gone, it's both exciting and scary.

"I can't wait," I eventually sigh.

"That's makes two of us." Jessica giggles.

**/ / /**

As soon as I walk through my front door, my dad hands me the letter.

THE LETTER.

I hand it back to him and ask him to read it to me, my fingers are shaking so bad I can't even begin to tear the envelope.

Now, hours later I'm still sitting on my bed in a daze. My body numb, my emotions desensitized, but my heart still beating uncontrollably fast in my chest.

I got it. I. Got. In. I got the scholarship. I did it.

_I __did __it__._

In three weeks I'm leaving for Oxford. I get to follow my dreams.

All that work has really paid off.

So why do I feel like this? Why aren't I more excited? Where's my overwhelming joy? Why aren't I screaming and dancing around my room?

Why is the fear so deep and strong inside of me?

And why do I feel so empty?

**/ / /**

"Bella! What did you do?" Jacob yells as he throws open my bedroom door and stomps into my room. "What did you do to Edward?"

"Jacob, what are you talking about?" I push away from my computer desk and slowly approach him.

"What did you do to him, you selfish whore?" He screams at me with a red face and blotchy cheeks and I freeze up mid stride.

I'm gaping at Jacob and I see the tears gathering in his eyes. Our mother and father suddenly appear behind Jake in the open doorway. I notice Jake's gripping his cellphone tight in his hand, but all I hear are the words he just shouted at me echoing in my head.

Then my anger bleeds through and my adrenaline pushes me forward. "What did you say?" I take another step toward him, looking deeper into his eyes. "What did you… just say… to me?" I spit through clenched jaws.

"You know what I said, Bella! Edward's gone. I've been calling his cell for weeks and he never answered, but now his number has been disconnected! So I called around to some of his friends and found out he's gone because of you!"

"Oh really? What friends are you talking about, Jake? Because I did nothing to Edward!" I point at my chest and emphasize every word. "I know he's gone, but don't you dare try to blame it on me! It wasn't my fault!"

Jacob shakes his head and throws his cellphone down to the floor. I watch as it slides across the hardwood, stopping only when it hits my wall.

"They told me he left Port Angeles because you are a two-timing slut!" Jacob points at me and screams through gritted teeth.

"Jacob Swan! You take that back right now!" My mother rushes in and stands between us. She grabs on to both of his shoulders and bends down to look him eye to eye. "I will not have you talk that way to your sister or anyone else in this house! Do you understand?"

I hurriedly step around her. My rage still zipping through my body. "Are serious right now? Do you really believe that, Jake?"

A few tears quickly slide down his cheeks. "He was my friend, Bella! And for some stupid reason he liked you! He liked you a lot! Now he's gone, so you tell me what to believe!"

My dad reaches out for my arm to pull me away from my mother and Jacob as she tries to push him out my door.

"Get out of my room you ungrateful little punk! Get out!" I reach out around my dad as I swing at Jacob. He's out of arm's length, so I kick at him but still never make contact. "You don't have a clue what you're talking about Jacob, so just keep your mouth shut! Why don't you go and find some friends your own age, you little spoiled brat! Oh yeah! I forgot! No one will put up with your shitty attitude!"

"Why didn't you stay away from him, Bella?" Jacobs lunges at me right before my mother shoves him backward and slams my door shut. I hear her fussing at him under her breath as she ushers him down the hall to his room.

My dad still has a hold of my arm. He pulls me around and coaxes me to sit down on the edge of my bed. My whole body is shaking and I'm breathing hard. All I see is red. Jacob has no right to say those things to me or call me names. He is so selfish, I just want to slap his mouth.

I look up at my dad still hovering over me and see the worry filling his eyes. The adrenaline that just moments ago fueled my fire, starts to dissipate making me feel nauseated. As my anger wanes, my chest tightens, causing my breathing to gasp and stutter. Then like a hard slap to the face reality seizes me. I feel like I'm free falling through hell. Guilt rears it's fat, ugly head and puts me in my place. What have I done?

I don't even know who I am anymore.

With short movements, I shake my head and reach up to grab a hold of my father's hand. "Daddy, I didn't.."

"Shh, you don't have to say anything. But tell me the truth, are you really alright, baby girl? Are things okay with you?" He sits down beside me and rubs up and down my arm.

In the blink of an eye, my perfectly constructed wall crumbles down and the wave of everything I had bottled up inside surfaces and overflows. I can't hold back any longer. I couldn't stop this breakdown from happening even if my life depended on it.

"I... I don't know, Daddy. I really don't know."

I fall against my dad as he pulls me into his arms. He hugs tighter and the tears come harder. My whole being weeps along side my soul. I let myself feel whatever I want and don't try to stop it or hide it or push it back down. I acknowledge it and allow the hollow and the lost and the sad to pour out of me through tiny, salt water droplets. I close my eyes to the fear and emptiness and I pray that this is my lowest low, that all I can do from here on out is rise.

That night after the house becomes quiet and everyone retires to bed, I burrow down and hide under the covers. My face is puffy and my eyes are irritated from my earlier crying spell. My stomach is empty because I was way too upset to eat. But now from the sounds my belly is making, it doesn't seem to care what excuse I had to not try and eat dinner.

It's probably a good thing though, because as soon as I make the decision to try again to contact Edward, the butterflies awake in my gut and create a hurricane of uneasy nervousness.

I take a few deep breaths and pull out my cell phone from under my pillow. With shaky fingers I scroll to Edward's contact and hit the green call button to call his number once again. I'm betting that Jacob had dialed the wrong number earlier. Edward wouldn't disconnect his cell phone service, how else would he stay in touch with his parents?

I close my eyes and hold my breath as I wait for the familiar ring.

But instead a recording belts from my tiny speaker filling the black space around me. _"__I__'__m __sorry__, __the __number __you __have __dialed __is __no __longer __in __service__. __Please __check __the __number __and __dial __again __or __call__…"_

_No! __Please __no..__._ I hastily end the call and dial his number again.

The results are the same.

Somehow, I manage to push the correct button to hang up because I can't even bear to open my eyes and see his name still lit up on my screen.

Dammit! Jacob was right. About all of it. Even it being my fault he's gone. Edward must really hate me.

My cell slips from my hand and lands silently on my mattress. I don't even need it. _Who __am __I __going __to __call __anyway__? __Who__'__s __going __to __call __me__? __Stupid __piece __of shit __technology__! __I __don__'__t __have __any __use __for __you __anymore__!_

If I had any tears left, no doubt they'd be falling like a waterfall during the rainy season from my eyes right now. But the truth is that I don't—I'm all cried out.

For some reason, this feels like it, like the final blow. It's the proof that he really is gone for good. He doesn't ever want to see nor speak to me again. It truly is over. He has moved on.

I only wish I felt the same.

**/ / /**

The first Monday that I wake up and don't have to jump out of bed and get ready for school, I lazily stare at my ceiling and reflect.

May was one hell of a month. First, there was the play and all that crazy hassle that accompanied it. Along with the whirlwind of Edward and I spending so much time together, and me blindly falling in love. Then I finally broke up with Peter, and too soon after Edward disappeared from Port Angeles. There was the high of receiving the notice that I had been chosen for the scholarship and the low of finding out how much my brother hates me. And last but not least, the final days of my senior year, that were so uneventful—they didn't seem real.

But here I am, soon transitioning from a high school senior to a college freshman. Back down the social totem pole I go.

In less than a week I will walk that stage with my high school diploma in hand and turn a corner to the next stage of my life. On Saturday, June the fourth, our senior class will have our graduation ceremony and just like that, it will be over.

My mother has a ton of things planned for the next three weeks until I leave. She thinks I need a haircut and a mani/pedi. She says I have to go the doctor and get a physical. She also wants to double check that I'm all up to date on my vaccines. She also insisted that I go to have my yearly appointment to refill my birth control pills. And who can forget all the shopping she swears we need to do to prepare me for England.

Help.

I wonder if I can change my flight to leave any earlier? Two weeks earlier, perhaps?

**/ / /**

"Ms. Swan, come on back." Nurse Betty shuts the door to the waiting room and motions for me follow her back to pre-exam station.

"Your mother told me all about you getting that thing to go over to England and study. Oooh, Bella! That's something right there to be proud of. You know how special that is? Not many kids your age get the chance to do such things. I remember once..."

I turn to focus on the blood pressure gauge as she takes my pressure watching the rise of the red needle and trying my best to tune her out. Nurse Betty is a sweet woman, but she doesn't know how to stop talking. Ever.

She notes my blood pressure and then my heart rate. She takes my temperature and after tells me stand up straight on the scale to record my weight. With a huge smile and a pat on my back she finally quits rambling and hands me a small plastic cup to go fill it full of my piss. Before she walks away she informs me which examination room to go to after I'm done.

The joys of being a woman.

I quickly use the bathroom and open the small, secret door to place the cup full of my urine inside. Ew.

I zip across the hall to exam room number two where Nurse Betty hands me my flimsy gown to change into. As quickly as I can I throw off my clothes, slip on the ridiculous gown, and haphazardly fold my things into a semi neat stack on the chair. Double checking that my undergarments are effectively hid between my shirt and my shorts.

I've always have this fear that someone will come into my exam room too early, that I would be in mid-strip, which would scare me stupid and make me fall ass up practically buck naked in the floor. That would be horrible.

I hop up and sit on the cold table and try to get comfortable on what has to be the loudest layered paper I've ever come in contact with.

Just in time too, not seconds later there's a soft knock on my exam room door.

"Ms. Bella Swan, how are you doing?" Dr. Jane Aro glides into the room carrying my chart. She hasn't changed a bit since the last time I saw her.

"I'm fine, thank you." I awkwardly shift on the paper cover under my naked tush.

"So tell me Bella, are you still currently taking the Prevention Plus birth control pills? You take the pink ones, right?"

I nod.

"Have you had any complications lately? Have you been sick or had a change in any medication prescribed by your family doctor?"

"No. No, I don't take anything else and I've not been sick or... anything. No change."

She hums and nods her head.

She's never done this before. She should already be headed down south to poke and prod and make me cringe.

"Did you ever happen to miss taking a dose or two, per chance? Or did you get better about remembering to take your pill every day?"

I shrug and the loud paper underneath me seems to echo around in the room. "Yes, I mean, no. Um—yeah, sometimes I still miss a pill here and there. But I am better about remembering! There was once or twice when I was really busy and stressed, and I missed a couple days in a row because it slipped my mind, but I doubled up as soon as I..."

"When the last time you had sex?" she interrupts me.

My face burns hot with shame and embarrassment. "A month ago," I blurt out.

"That seems about right," she says as she pulls out a circular calendar looking thing out of her pocket.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She makes a few marks on my chart then turns to rest her hip against the cabinet. She smiles and takes a deep breath, "Do you recall what I told you could happen if just _once_ you forget to take your pill while you're sexually active?"

I try to respond, but all that happens is my mouth bobs open and shut. I pucker and then I wince. The room suddenly seems to shrink, and my heart rate spikes to what I'm sure is an unhealthy speed.

Her eyebrows raise and all at once, I freeze because I think I already know what she is about to say.

"Well, it happened! Congratulations, Bella! You're pregnant."

**/ / /**

When my visit is over, I numbly walk out of the clinic. My hands are full of pamphlets, samples, books, and magazines—all courtesy of the doctor's office.

I haven't freaked out yet, I'm so shocked I can't even process how to make it all the way out to my car. Instead, I carefully squat down to sit on the curb in the parking lot for a minute to try and collect my thoughts.

I look down at the brochure on top, there's this gorgeous little baby girl on the front. The title reads, "_What__'__s __next __now __that __you __are __expecting__?__"_

Wow.

Really?

Am I? Am I really… expecting? Could Dr. Aro be wrong? What if the test they used was bad or expired or defective?

I glance down at my stomach. It doesn't look different. I sure enough don't feel 'with child.' I... I can't be. It was only one night.

_Shit__!_

Oh fuck! What... if I am? Surely the doctor's office would know not to use bad tests, they are the professionals. If I had to trust any one's word, it would be Dr. Aro for sure.

But there is a first time for anyone to be wrong.

_Shit__! _What do I do now? I glance at the brochure in my hand again and I notice the face of the father in the background of the picture, he has these green eyes that remind me immediately of—

Edward.

The ever present crack in my heart makes itself known with a twist and pull simply by thinking of his name. And now...now that I know I'm carrying his baby?

Oh no...

My hands start to shake and I feel like I might throw up, or pass out, or throw up and then pass out. I cover my mouth with my hand and hold back the sob that's crawling up my throat.

"Bella? Is that you?"

I look up from my concrete seat at Esme as she kneels down to my eye level.

She's smiling at me and I feel her touch on my shoulder, but I am speechless and scared. I don't know what to say to her.

"What are you doing sitting down here? Are you okay?" She shrugs and then I watch as her eyes drop from my face down to the cornucopia of papers and material in my hands.

"I was supposed to be getting a refill of my birth control, but… I… then… What are you doing here?" My voice shakes.

"Carlisle business office is just upstairs, I was dropping off some paperwork for him. Bella, what is it, hon? Your face is so pale, are you sick or something?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head uncontrollably, hoping that if this is a dream, I can wake up right now.

"No, no, no. I'm not sick, Esme... I'm pregnant. And... and it's Edward's." I barely whisper through my labored breaths. This must be what it feels like to hyperventilate. I need more air. I can't seem to breathe deep enough.

"Bella, calm down." I feel her hands tighten around my elbows. I didn't even know she was holding onto me. "Look at me, Bella. You need to calm down before you pass out. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go. Do it again. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Keep going. Only think about breathing, think about filling your lungs with oxygen, and feel them expand. Then concentrate on releasing that air, slowly. That's good. Now easy, easy. Stand up with me, I'm going to drive you home."

_**Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong.**__**~Lao-Tzu**_

* * *

**The next chapter — oh yeah! It's the chapter I've been waiting to write for this entire fic! You have my word, it wont take as long to post as this one did, but I'm not gonna lie - reviews are encouraging! **


	25. Momma Said

**Chapter 24**

Esme doesn't say anything as she drives me home.

I watch the scenery pass and even though I've drove this road a thousand times, nothing feel right or looks familiar. I'm sure it's me, even if I can't be positive of who I am anymore. I'm the one who's out of character, it's only me who's out of place.

In this very second, I'm more lost than I've ever been. I'm stuck in some land of the unknown. There is no predictability, no reasoning, nothing is happening as it should. It's a scary place to be, but I think what's worse ...is that there's no turning back. I am stuck here, in this city, in this car. In this right now and unfortunately, I am who I am.

Just six weeks ago ― I had a plan. I was on a very narrow and straight path that I was certain would lead me to a place where I could reinvent myself. There would be no labels that had stuck for too long or people that I 'belonged' to ―no cliches or carried over judgements. No rumors or untruths to haunt me and follow me around. A new place where who I used to be wouldn't matter. A foreign place where all things would be fresh and different, including me. I was looking forward to a restart, a do-over of sorts. The world was my fresh clay and I was the inexperienced potter and I couldn't wait to change, to be, to go, but now... Now there's this huge roadblock, this... this detour ―this hiccup that's going to change everything.

Forever.

Esme leads me into the house and suggests that I sit down and relax on the couch. She asks me to give her a few minutes to speak to my mother alone. I only nod, all my words still jumbled up and locked away somewhere amidst my confusion and my shock. I don't even want those words anymore, those words from the past few hours are too hard to comprehend. Shit, they're even too difficult to say aloud much less hide them away inside myself, for they are self inducing poisonous words.

Esme greets my mother with a quick hug and politely asks for her to join her outside for a chat. Esme doesn't even give my mother an opportunity to decline or to ask any questions, nor does Esme allow my mom to say anything to me, instead she rushes her out the front door. Esme's good, but by the look on my mother's face, I hope Esme is strong too... because she just may have to literally catch my mother after her legs give out from my 'news.'

I can't see them clearly as they stand and talk in the yard, nor can I hear what they're saying, but a few times I can make out their silhouettes through the thin curtains. Sometimes I can see their shadows on the ground as the sun moves in and out from behind the clouds.

I can tell that the two women are standing close together, hands touching the other's arms. My mother is shifting in her shoes and shaking her head. I swear my skin tingles all the way in here from her obvious shock. I almost want to go out there and face this head on, but right now, my legs are too heavy. My body feels like lead, like it's nothing but dead weight. I have an emotional overload and there is no place to keep it all. There's too much crammed in my head and so much breaking my heart, that everything is just making me so sluggish and tired.

Not very long after Esme and my mom go outside, my father drives up our short driveway. I have no doubt my mother called him in a panic, demanding he come home immediately from work. In crisis mode, she always acts like she can't function without him, and she has this terrible habit of over-reacting. Yet when he comes to her rescue, when he drops all to be by her side ―and he always does ―she never seems to use him. She won't listen to him or let him help her. It's like he's her default just in case she can't handle whatever crisis is creeping up her ass at the time.

If I was her, I'd do the opposite. I'd lean on him and his strength. I'd let him carry the brunt of the load. I would stand beside him, not in front of him. His wisdom would be my roots, his arms my cradle. In my opinion, there is no shame in being weak. Hasn't it been said that our strength grows out of weakness?

My mom doesn't give him the respect or the credit he deserves, God bless him.

I slip off my shoes and pull my knees up on the couch. I wrap my arms around my middle as I lean over and rest my head on the arm cushion. With a deep unsteady breath I close my eyes and try my best not to think anymore. I just want to sleep a little and then when I wake up, I want everything to be back to normal.

Whatever normal is.

/ / /

I open my eyes and notice that the room is cast in a deep orange glow, which means that the sun has begun to set. As I sit up and stretch, I hear my mother and Esme still talking, but now they've moved their chat indoors, to the kitchen.

Very quickly my mind fills with the happenings of the day. Every thought, every emotion boomerangs inside of me with no exit. Instantly, my body feels weighed down and my head aches from all the worry. I won't even comment on how my heart pains, but it's overwhelming.

I slowly stand to join them in the kitchen. My mother is washing dishes. Esme is standing with her arms crossed and her backside resting against the cabinets.

"There you are," Esme says with a small smile, "how about a glass of water?"

My mother suddenly stills with her hands sunk down in the sudsy water. She doesn't look toward me, nor does she make a sound.

"Please," I respond to Esme with a nod. I make my way over to the table and sit down.

I can't take my eyes off my mother and the way her back is as stiff as a board. I can hear her breathing, her shirt vibrating with each slow, calculated, uneasy breath.

"Mom?" I sound like I'm five again, my voice reflecting how I feel ―so unsure of anything, so scared. I'm still just a helpless girl who simply needs her mommy. "Mom, please say something. Please talk to me."

Without answering, my mom doubles over the sink, her back quaking with her silent sobs. She pulls her hands just barely out of the water and her head falls to rest on her forearms.

The room is thick with disappointment and the air is muddled with unhappiness. The walls echo her sobs, they're mocking me ―calling me out.

She shakes her head in tandem with her cries with no acknowledgement of me at all. She still hasn't said a word to me or even looked in my direction.

Why is she being this way? Why is she treating me like this?

The need to scream begins to claw it's way up from my depths. I fight it ―that urge to scream at her, with her, because of her...it's not easy.

Esme places my drink in front of me and I jump at the sound of the plastic cup slapping the table top. "Bella, your mom just doesn't know what to say to you right now, honey. She's not angry at you, she's just as upset and shocked as you are. She told me before that she's at a loss for words― "

I cut Esme off as my anger zips through my body like lightning, so quick with nothing strong enough to hold it back. "She's upset? What about me? Doesn't she get that none of this is easy for me? I need her to be the adult here. I need my mother!" I refrain from pounding my fists on the table as I look past Esme and shout toward my mother.

"Just stop it! Dammit, stop! I ...can't!" Renee's voice trembles as she yells back. She slings water and suds everywhere as she flicks her hands and wipes her face with the back of her wrists. "I... I can't right now, just give me a damn minute!" she cries as she storms out of the kitchen.

I flinch when I hear her bedroom door slam. I seriously don't know what just happened. Is my situation really so awful that my own mother can't stand me?

"Esme, what...I... I don't understand."

My dad hesitantly creeps in through the back door. His lips are pressed together in a frown and his eyes are red and empty as they scan our surroundings. His face looks like he's aged years within the past few hours since I saw him last. I've never noticed how much gray is streaked through his hair or how prominent the worry lines are on his forehead, but it breaks my heart more so than it already is.

Guilt quickly begins to nag at me. Does he look that way because of me? Am I causing him so much worry?

I would never want that... That's my daddy, he's my...he's my rock.

"How are you feeling?" His boots are heavy and loud on the linoleum floor as he approaches me. He bends over to kiss me on top of my head. The heat of his callused hand warms the back of my neck.

I shake my head and fight back my tears.

"Confused. Upset. Scared. Daddy, I..." I prop my elbows on the table and slam my forehead into my palms. I tighten my fists into the roots of my hair and try to ease the tension headache that's rippling through my temples. "Explain it to me Daddy, what's is mom's deal? I kind of need her to talk to me right now with a little bit of maturity and some compassion. Honestly... I really, really need her in every way right now, probably more so than I ever have."

"I know, Bell. and I'm sorry. She's just trying to collect her thoughts and sort through her feelings. Your mom lets things overwhelm her sometimes. Give her a few hours to let this sink in right. She'll come around and talk to you, I promise. But Bella, I love you. She loves you. No matter what. You know that right?"

"And Honey, this baby affects everyone. Not just you. Even though you're the final decision maker, it does affects us all." Esme interjects.

"I know," I nod. "I do, but I want― no, I need my momma's advice and I need to talk to her about all this. I need her to help me figure things out. I feel so alone." My throat burns as it constricts again and tears well up in my eyes.

"Oh Bella, you are not alone, Sweetheart, I swear! We're all here for you and we're not going anywhere―ever, I promise. Every step of the way, whatever your decision, you will never be alone. Do you hear me? Just give your mom a bit more time and a little bit of space. Go easy on her, she's simply worried about you and your future. As a parent, we just can't help but wonder if somewhere along the way we didn't do something right. If we were somehow lacking in our parenting skills and it affected our children for the negative. Every set back our children go through, every wrong path they may or may not take, every hard time they experience always falls back on us. Even when we're not involved, it causes us anguish too, because all we ever wanted was for our children's lives to be perfect and simple. Our wish is for their daily struggles to be less than ours and that all your wishes come true."

"Esme, I'm scared." I admit as I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"It's okay to be scared, honey. Everyone goes through frightening times in their life. We have days and weeks that we just don't know how we're going to make it through, but the upside is... is that somehow we always do. And you're going to do the same. No matter what. I believe in you―we all believe in you and everything's going to work out."

Esme rubs her hand over my back as I sit there motionless in my chair. My thoughts are so scattered and so loud in my head. Every idea leads to a different scenario, one extreme circles around to another and every conclusion I think of ends with me doing something that's going to upset me.

I guess the bottom line is I have to decide upon what upsets me the least.

/ / /

The next morning, I find myself sitting at the kitchen table again; all the brochures, pamphlets, and papers the doctor gave me spread out in front of me like a buffet of information and knowledge.

I still haven't spoken to my mother. Last night, after Esme left, I took a long, hot shower and then my emotional exhaustion must have overtook me because as soon as I curled up on my bed and my eyes closed, I slipped into a deep sleep. One without dreams and worries. A sleep that temporarily cleared my mind and let me rest. That sleep helped me feel a little bit more like myself when I woke up this morning.

I needed that.

It's also a really good thing because I'm well aware that right now is the exact time for me to get real. I have no choice but to decide what to do. I have to alter my plans and then make new ones, and I realize that I may just have to figure it all out alone.

As I read through all the information given to me, it's kind of amazing how clear the answer reveals itself to me. It's like a loud whisper that echoes for miles. It's the tiniest beam of sunshine breaking through an otherwise dark, gray, cloud covered sky and that sunshine is just enough to light my way.

Deep down, I think I knew all along what I was going to do. Doesn't mean I'm not scared or that I have any idea how this is going to work. The plan of my future still isn't definite or clear, but now it's something I can start to see coming together in months instead of years. The craziest thing is that not having the next four to six years of my life planned out doesn't seem so terrifying anymore, instead it feels... adventurous.

I almost look forward to it.

"Orange juice?" My mother asks as she walks into the kitchen startling me. I'm sure I give her a strange look because I'm surprised she's talking to me so nonchalantly after yesterday.

"Yes please." I nod and begin to gather and stack everything into a neat pile and wonder how to start this conversation with her. Should I do it now, or should I wait until later? Should I let her bring it up or what?

She hands me my drink, then she slowly pulls out the chair beside me at the table. As she sits down, I notice her eyes are puffy and tired. She squints as she scans over the plethora of papers surrounding us.

She looks like she didn't sleep a wink.

It makes me feel guilty all over again.

But I don't get the chance to say anything because as soon as she picks up one of the brochures, she starts talking.

"I never told you Bella, but during spring break my senior year of high school my parents and I took a vacation to California. Your Grandmother Hazel had a best friend who lived right dab in the middle of Hollywood. Her name was Betty, and Betty sure did have the best connections all over Tinsel Town. Now keep in mind that I just had met your dad a month prior and we were kind of getting serious, but oh my―I was not going to pass up this trip!"

I take a sip of my juice and gently place my cup back on the table, I have a feeling things are about to get real.

"See Bella, I had this dream― I wanted to become a director so bad, more than anything I guess." She stops and laughs as a lone tear slides down her cheek. It's a sad, hollow laugh and there isn't a smile that accompanies it.

"Shit, that sounds so comical now. Me, some big shot Hollywood director, doesn't it? But I did, I had all this artistic creativity churning inside me. I couldn't read a book without envisioning it on the big screen―who I would cast, what the props would look like, what the stars would wear. Every movie, every television show, even songs on the radio―they inspired me. I wanted to make them come to life, and if they already had a life, I lost sleep thinking of how I could make them better. When we went to California, Betty took me around and let me rub elbows with some of the town's finest back in the day. She told them all about how smart and creative I was, and about my many aspirations. I sure was on cloud nine. Then I came back here to Washington and I began to plan my trip. Betty and my parents helped me work it out and I sure enough, I was going back as soon as I graduated, like the very next day. I had internships and part time jobs lined up on movie sets. Major Hollywood directors were going to let me sit with them and assist them and show me the ropes." She pauses, still not looking at me.

I feel like I should say something, but I'm blank.

I watch as her shoulders rise with a deep breath. "Then a few weeks before I was to graduate, I got pregnant with you."

The tears are streaming down her face now. She makes no attempt to wipe them away. She's shaking her head in small shakes. "Your dad knew I was going to California as soon as I could. He even had plans to go into the military and we were going to wait on each other. And as soon as his four years were up he was going to join me in L.A."

"Mom..."

She cuts me off with her hand slapping the table, some of the papers flying to the floor. "Let me say this, Bella." she wipes her nose.

"Please don't think for one second, that if I could go back and change things that I'd pick my dream over you. I swear to God Bella, I wouldn't, never in a million lifetimes. You and your brother are the best things to have ever happened to me. I love you both more than anything, especially some childish dream I had. You two ...and your father are the reason for my existence, I know that now. I am so blessed and not a day goes by that I don't realize that. But dreams don't die; they forever live inside of you. You never forget how much happiness they once gave you. It's like when you read a book, you live in another world for a little while, that's what your dreams do too. Even now when I remember, I go back to being seventeen...back when the world was my oasis and my dreams were coming true and nothing was impossible. Then my phone rings. Or my alarm goes off and I wake up. And I'm here. And my dreams are no longer my own. There will always be a part of me, however small, that will always wonder what might of happened and it's that little-bitty piece of me... that breaks right now for you."

She finally turns toward me, her hands reach out and cover mine.

"It's all I ever wanted for you, Bella. I wanted you to dream big and I wanted you to chase that dream. I wanted nothing... nothing at all holding you back. And I sure in the hell, didn't want you to look me in the eye in twenty years and tell me that you wonder what might have happened if …"

"I know, but..."

"No Baby, listen. I love you so much. I seriously wouldn't trade you for a thousand and one years in Hollywood, and I never regret that day that I tore up that one way airplane ticket straight to California. I simply want you to be happy with your choices. If you want to go to Oxford as planned, then go. We will do what we have to do, however difficult. Or if you want to give this baby up for adoption, or if you decide to keep this baby, I'm beside you one hundred and fifty percent. Whatever you say, I'm right here. I just don't want you to ever regret anything, especially not something this big or something this life changing. I'm sorry I was so harsh with you yesterday―it just hit me hard. I think all the times of all my years that I've stashed away that part of my life crashed down on me and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve that."

She squeezes my hand and the weight on my shoulders from the past twenty four hours evaporates like the steam from her now cold coffee.

I understand; I do. I never knew any of this about my mother, but it helps me understand why she always has supported and also pushed me like she did.

Part of me hates that she had to give up her dreams like that, and it makes me feel even more guilty than I already do.

Especially when I tell her what I've decided to do.

"Mom, I'm going to keep this baby."

Then she smiles, and it's genuine and it lights up the room. I smile in return.

She laughs again, quieter. "Are you sure?"

I nod, and she reaches across the table and hugs me tight and she holds me long.

I instantly feel better and think I may be able to do this, because I'm not alone and it feels good to know I never was.

With or without Edward.

**One can find so many pains when the rain is falling. **

**~John Steinbeck**

* * *

_**AN: PLEASE NOTE**... This chapter doesn't have the kick I was expecting it too. I promise, it's coming next.. But Renee had a voice and she insisted to be heard. (She seriously wouldn't shut up). I'm also trying to get back in the swing of things, I'm even trying to finish an entry for the Ho Hey contest by the 14th of Feb.. We shall see. _**  
**

_I did edit & post this chapter under the influence (strongly) and even though Rose and Missy were the shit & pre-read/beta'd for me, I TAKE FULL RESPONBILITY FOR ALL THE CRAP, but if it's nice... please thank them. And TBH, I doubt I will get the chance to reply to your reviews, but know that I read them and I LOVE THEM times one billion and also know that I am eagerly writing **because **of your reviews even when I don't tell you so. _


	26. Downpour

_A little note from me: Sorry I've become THAT person, the one who takes waaaaay to long to update. I hate it. But here it is, the chapter that started this journey. I heard this song, and the girl tells the guy she's carry his baby, he doesn't respond will all rainbows and glitter, and it got my wheels turning. I wanted this Edward to be the immature teenage boy that he is. I wanted his reaction to be real and imperfect and plausible and HONEST. So hold on..._

* * *

**All mistakes are mine even though Rose & Missy are the shizz, I swear!**

**Chapter**** 25 **

Making the decision to keep the baby is the easy part, it's the day to day living afterward that proves to be difficult.

Being pregnant is in everything I do—what I eat, what I drink, why some nights I can't sleep, while other mornings I never want to get up. I think about it while I'm showering, when I dress afterward, when I read, when I watch tv, and when I do nothing at all.

I'm pregnant.

Sometimes I can't even breathe without the word 'baby' running through my mind, and on the flip side of that—there's a name that's often accompanied to the word 'baby'. And that is simply Edward. Edward. Edward. Edward. So yeah, he too seems to always be on my mind.

How unfair.

It is his baby, there's a part of him living and thriving inside of me. Both a blessing and a curse. I mean it's almost sinister how Edward didn't want me so he left me high and dry with one of the most haunting mementos of himself. As if somehow Edward wanted to be sure that I thought of him every single day for the rest of my life. I mean, how could I not? Would I ever be able to separate the two?

My mom called the scholarship department to tell them I wouldn't be coming as planned and turns out they had this small clause we knew nothing of. They informed us that once a person _(__me__) _ is awarded a scholarship through them, it is the person's_ (__mine__) _ to redeem for as long as the program is active. Meaning, I don't have to go right now. There are a few stipulations, like the one that stated that whatever courses I was planning on taking have to be offered with a spot available _when_ I can finally accept or I will just have to wait. They put me on a waiting list of sorts. If a spot, like the one I received, opens up at anytime, they start contacting people on their list (_of __people __like __me __who __weren__'__t __able __to __go __prior_) to see if they are available to accept their scholarship at the time of the opening _(__like __the __one __I __just __now __created__)_. I guess it's not too awful to have to postpone my trip. My new life, my dreams**—**they'll just have to wait on me.

Granted, I can't even imagine when it'll be a good time for me to fly to another country, live in a foreign place, and go to school full time—with a baby. But I'm choosing to not dwell on that part right now. Who knows what will happen in the next few years?

Anyway, I'm trying this new way of thinking, where everyday I remind myself to try to always think positively. I look for the good in my decisions and my actions and not focus so much on the negative. Even so in the ways of others. Like being pregnant, every single day I think of a different blessing in it. Even though it's not easy and it's definitely not foolproof, it has been easing the weight of hopelessness that had lodged itself on my chest

I'm even looking for the good in Edward leaving me.

Unfortunately, I haven't found it yet.

/ / /

I haven't told anyone outside my family or Edward's that I'm pregnant. In my opinion it's no one else's business. The people who need to know already know. Not even Jessica—even though I talk to her practically every day, it doesn't feel right to tell her just yet.

It's not that I'm ashamed or regretful. I simply don't want anyone else to know. I don't want them to give me the looks I know that they will—the shock, the pity, the judging. And I really don't want to have to justify and defend my decisions.

Even as Jess and I are standing side by side after our graduation ceremony, and we smile for our parents as they snap picture after picture of us in our caps and our gowns, I covet the secret inside of me like the tiny precious miracle that it is.

"Please tell me you're going to Newton's party tonight aren't you Bella? This will be our last party together before everyone starts leaving for college and such. You simply have to go with me!" Jessica whines as we stand together after all the pictures have been taken.

I look over at my mom and dad as they chat with Edward's parents who also came to support me. "I...I don't know Jess, I wasn't planning on it."

I refrain from touching my belly, there is no swell yet, no small baby bump, but I have this new habit of touching it all the time. Silent protection, I guess.

"Please, just for a little while." She takes my hand and squeezes it hard.

"Alright," I huff, "but I don't want to be there all night, okay?" I refrain from cringing as I say it.

Jessica drops my hand and hugs me as she squeals. "Yeah! I promise, you can even drive yourself if you want. That way you can leave anytime and you can go pack or.. or whatever it is you need to do."

She still thinks I'm going to England. I haven't figured out what I'm going to tell her when she finds out I'm not.

"Have you talked to Edward lately?" Jessica glances over at his parents and waves.

I'm sure the forced smile I've had plastered on my lips all afternoon instantly disappears; after all I'm not a miracle worker.

I shake my head and look away from Esme and Carlisle. I pretend to scour the crowd for something—anything more interesting than this conversation that I don't want to have.

"I overheard my mom and Esme talking the other day, I don't think it was good. Supposedly, he's with his uncle and he's..."

Something in my heart lurches and twists, I'm sure it's the part of me that fell hard for him. That place that's now dark and abandoned. I wish I felt nothing when it came to him. I wish hearing his name didn't upend my world like it did.

"I don't want to hear it," I cut her off. "He made his choice, let him have it. What he's doing now doesn't concern me."

Or at least that's what I tell myself every day; too bad my heart never seems to listen.

/ / /

I walk into Mike Newton's house and instantly I feel out of place. Even though every face I see is familiar and the crowd around me is bursting with excitement, this isn't who I am anymore. This isn't who I will ever be again. Growing up is the new me, whether I like it or not.

It's sobering.

Not ten steps in Jessica finds me and drags me from room to room. She offers me a drink from the foamy, warm beer in her hand. Not five seconds later she offers me a full cup while we stand in the kitchen. After that I quickly lose count of how many times she asks me if I want a beer or a shot or something with alcohol. I politely decline and try to distract her from asking me why I haven't even taken a drink of the first thing.

/ / /

As the night creeps on, I find myself easily distracted by everyone's foolishness around me. Being the completely sober one in a sea of drunks is entertaining. Everywhere I look, I can always find someone to laugh _at_ or laugh _with_. Not really much difference between laughing at or laughing with when ninety-nine percent of the people here are lit hotter than a giant tiki torch at the equator.

After losing her awhile back to a game of beer pong, Jessica catches my eye as I see her coming swiftly through the door from the back yard. She isn't smiling anymore but her eyes are fixated solely on me.

My heart starts to speed and a thousand different scenarios run through my head. Not one of them good.

She stops right in front of me. "Bella, can you come outside with me for a minute?" Her voice is soft, but her eyelids narrow with aggravation.

I want to tell her no, but instead I stand and motion for her to go so I can follow.

As soon as we round the door frame and I see that tall figure standing there, I wish I hadn't. I'm not much in the mood for this.

"Bella Swan, isn't this interesting?" Rudeness drips from Rosalie's lips as she addresses me.

"What do you want, Rosalie?" I pretend that I'm not affected in the least by her standing there squinting her Edward-friendly-eyes at me. She probably still talks to him everyday. She probably knows exactly where he is and if he's coming back here or not. Thanks to Edward, she probably knows more about me that I know about her. She probably hates me and once again, I wished I didn't care. Not about any of it but because I do—so fucking much—and it's all I can do to not to beg her for information. Even a shred of something.

"Bella, Rose said something about you being at Dr. Aro's office the other day." Jessica raises her eyebrows at me.

Suddenly, I feel small and cornered. I don't know whether to cower and run or stand tall and defend. This isn't anywhere where I thought this conversation would go. I thought she would give me a hard time about Edward... not about the baby.

"Newsflash Bella, my aunt Irina was there for her monthly prenatal visit and she overheard everything. Aren't you even going to tell your bestest friend Jess here all about it?" Rose crosses her arms and the smile on her face is lethal.

"Mind your own damn business, Rosalie Hale. I swear..." I snarl through my gritted teeth.

"You swear what?" She steps one small step toward me.

Without even thinking about it, I take one tiny step backward.

"You just need to mind your own damn business Rosalie." My traitor tears begin to gather in the corner of my eyes. "Tell me, what did I ever do to you anyway? Why do you hate me so much?"

"You didn't do anything and it would be too much energy for me to hate you. I only hate how easy everything is for you, Bella. You have this perfect family and perfect grades. You had this perfect boyfriend with a perfect relationship. Your little production was perfect and you received the perfect scholarship. Yet you still wanted more, so in the process of completing your perfection, you fucked up Edward's life and ran him straight out of town. And now this? I bet you don't even know whose perfect baby it is you're carrying, do you?" Rose shakes her head.

I stand motionless, her speech bouncing around in my head. My fists tighten and flex. The saltwater deepens in my eyes, the tears blurring my vision.

But I refuse to break down for her, _to_ her. She means nothing.

"You don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about, Rosalie, because if you were right, and my life was so fucking perfect, I promise I wouldn't be standing here wasting my precious perfect breath on the likes of you." I spit through my clenched jaw, my teeth grinding on each other.

I storm past Rosalie and push through the crowd of people I hadn't even notice was forming around us. I blindly head for the exit as quick as my feet will take me.

It still isn't fast enough.

Jessica calls my name, but I don't stop.

I reach my car and start it up. I squeal tires and drive away as hastily as I safely can.

I pull into my driveway, not even remembering the drive home.

From the tip of my head to the ends of my toes, my body is shaking like I've been stuck in a freezer for hours. I'm shaking so bad it hurts. My muscles are tight and cramping. My lungs feel like them filling with air is the toughest thing they've ever done. And my heart, I don't think it knows what a steady heartbeat is anymore.

Then like a flood, my damn breaks. I circle my arms around my belly and I cry. I lean my head forward on my steering wheel and I cry.

And I cry.

I cry for hating myself for being so weak all the damn time.

Hating for falling in love with Edward so carelessly.

Hating for being such a god damned baby.

I just cry and hate til I have nothing left to cry for and hate is the new me.

/ / /

Last night my mother made me get out of my car after I sat in the driveway for hours. She didn't ask any questions, she simply told me to come inside and then she helped me into my bed.

I turn over and look at the clock, it's barely past nine in the morning, the sun shines so brightly on my wall it tricks me into thinking it's late afternoon already.

I get up and head toward the bathroom, no sense in wallowing in my pity longer than I have to.

Nothing's going to change anything now. What's done is done.

I just wished I felt something other than this dread I seem to live in.

/ / /

When I come out of the bathroom, Jessica is sitting on my bed. I stop and stare and wait for her to tear into me.

But instead she asks, "Bella, Is it true? Are you pregnant?" Her face masked with concern and questions and hurt.

I slowly nod.

Her shoulders slump and she looks down at her hands in her lap. "Why didn't you tell me?" she whispers.

"No reason, just ..because. This isn't easy for me and I don't want any pity. Or judgement. Or advice. And how was I supposed to tell you? When I say it out loud, it just doesn't sound so good." I make my way over to sit beside her on the bed.

"And you're sure it's Edwards?"

I nod again, "I'm positive."

"Bella, You should have told me."

"I'm sorry Jessica. I really am."

"I wouldn't have done any of those things, you know. I would've just been your friend, however you needed me to." The bed shifts as she turns toward me.

"Will you now?" I ask with a half-smile.

"Of course!" she smiles a little. "I'm going to be an aunt! Yeah! Auntie Jay-Jay!" She throws her arms up in a half-hearted cheer and flops down backward on the bed.

I shake my head and lay down on my side facing her.

She looks over at me and then she reaches out to link our hands. "I'm still proud of you, Bella. You're the strongest person I know. If anyone can handle a baby at our age, it has got to be you."

"You think so?" I ask with a squeeze of our fingers. It's nice to have her believe in me.

"I know so." She squeezes back and rolls over to face me. "You don't need him, B. You never did."

I huff through my nose.

"But what if I still want him, even though I shouldn't. What if I still want him to want me and to want this baby? What if I want more than anything for us to just be a family?" I say for the first time to anyone.

"I think if that's really what you want, then you better prepare yourself for disappointment."

/ / /

Jessica and I lay on my bed for hours talking. I can say anything to her, and she's honest back to me. I apologize over and over about not telling her sooner. I know now I should have.

She tells me she wants to help, and accompany me to my doctor's visits, and hold my hair back when I puke. She offers to bring me pickles and ice cream and sushi when I crave it. She swears to inform me if I wear something that makes me look bigger than I actually am or if I start to resemble the ass end of a cow. She even promises she'll paint my toenails when I can't reach them any longer.

Jessica makes me not feel so alone anymore.

It helps a little.

/ / /

A little after two she says she has to leave so I walk out with her on the porch. It's early June and already hot and muggy outside. I can't stand it.

"Call me, no matter what. Regardless of the time, day or night. You hear me? If you need anything, even just a boring body on the other end of the line, I'll be there. Okay? You don't have to do this alone, Bella." She opens her car door and waits on me to answer her.

"I hear you Auntie Jay-Jay. I have an appointment coming up soon, I'll text you the details."

"You better!" she yells before slamming her car door.

I watch her leave and then I hear a small rumble of thunder in the distance. Sounds like a storm is moving in. Stupid hot rainy weather.

An old car stops on the street right before our driveway. The sun is hitting the windshield so I can't see inside and tell who it is. I've never seen the car around. It looks like it should be in a junkyard somewhere. The engine is loud and sounds awful. White smoke puffs from the tail end and every now and again it sounds like it's going to quit running and maybe explode. The body must have been bright yellow in it's prime and was probably a nice ride, but now there's rust and dirt covering the outsides.

When the engine finally dies and the driver's door opens, I freeze.

I would know that silhouette anywhere.

Because I do know that profile, it haunts me in my dreams.

He approaches me quickly, but with hesitation in his steps. Like he wants to rush over to me, but he doesn't.

Or maybe that he's thinking twice, second guessing himself, and that maybe he wants to bolt in the other direction.

I can't move. I don't know what to say. I don't know what I want to happen. I don't know what he's doing here. I don't know anything.

But that he's here.

What if Rosalie called him?

Did she tell him?

Has he changed his mind?

Is he back for good?

Does he want... me?

"Edward? What are you doing here?" My mouth finally finds the words to say.

He stops and doesn't come any closer. His stance is rigid. He crosses his arms and looks at anything—everything but me. "My mom...she said I needed to come by here. She insisted that I not leave Port Angeles until I hear what you have to tell me."

"Oh." All I can do is blink and stare in stupor. His answer is so harsh and unfriendly.

"And by insisted I mean she basically threatened my life." he snarls.

Finally it sinks in what he said, _'__before __I __leave__.' _

"So you're..?" I nod toward the car.

"Leaving. I'm on my way of here again.. and it's for good this time." He still won't look directly at me, I hate it. This Edward I don't know, nor do I want to. I don't like him like this. He's so ...distant and closed off. He doesn't even look the same.

"There were just a few things I had to get." he shrugs.

"Your car?" I ask.

He looks behind him, and a cloud moves over us. I then can see the other occupants inside the vehicle. Two in the back, one in the front. The one in the front—I can see the outline of her hair, it's long and wild. She keeps running her fingers through it.

I feel sick.

"Well, you know... I didn't graduate. So my dad took mine, this was all I could afford for now."

The air starts to feel thick and uncomfortable. I swear it feels like the atmosphere lodges on my shoulders and my chest, weighing me down, pinning me to the very spot on which I stand.

Edward fidgets and I sense his restlessness. His agitation becomes an invisible thing that stands between us.

"Oh...um," I try to make my voice strong and unaffected. "You missed graduation yesterday."

He shrugs again and takes a step backward. Farther away from me.

More distance. "Yeah, I know. I tried to get here. For Emmett and Rose and the gang but... I got held up."

He's still looking at his car and once again I glance behind him at the figures sitting there. My stomach knots and I fight the need to cover it with my hand. Protect what's inside.

"How's Peter?" Edward asks with a sarcastic tone.

"Don't, Edward, please. We're not..." I huff. "He did tell me everything though. How you knew about him and Angela and about your argument. and his injury. Why didn't you ever tell me?" The words roll out before I have the chance to think about not saying them.

"And when would that have been appropriate, Bella? Would you have even believed me? Come on, I didn't want to be that guy to you. The guy who spills the beans and tries to turn her boyfriend against her. You had to find out for yourself."

The anger starts to build, I feel it deep in my gut, coming alive. "Oh, but it's alright that you're the guy who leaves me hanging on the second night of the play in which you had the lead with no available understudy to take your place? You knew how important that was for me."

"Always about you right? Never mind; I didn't come here for this." He takes another step backward and I panic.

I resist the urge to lunge at him and cling to his feet. "Wait, you're right, I'm sorry." I shake my head to gather my thoughts. "Will you just tell me why? Why did you just up and leave me like that? How could you? Was I not even worth a goodbye to you?" I have to ask, but I don't think I really want him to answer.

He finally looks at me and his eyes are so vacant and empty; there's no life behind them. He then quickly looks away across the street. His stare was so brief, I wonder if I imagined it.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" He shoves his hands in his pocket.

"Yeah, but..."

"It was a mistake, Bella. You and me—we... We never should have even been friends, much less more than that. You're this sweet, smart, dependable person and I'm... I'm not. I'm the total opposite of you—fire and ice, black and white, evil and good and all that shit. It would've never worked out, so now... this is goodbye."

"Bullshit." I stomp my foot. "We could've tried, Edward." My desperation rolls of me heavy and fast and easy, hell, he can probably smell it.

"I'm not... I need to go." He turns away.

I panic again, but this time my legs listen and I close the distance between us. "Wait. Please, stop. Your mother's right, there is something I need to tell you. Just wait one second."

I position myself between him and his car.

Edward closes his eyes, and I don't miss how dark the skin around them is. His cheeks are hollow and his face is pale. He looks as bad as I feel. When his eyes start to open, I quickly look down. I don't want him to see me examining him, nor do I want him to witness the tears brimming my eyes again.

"When are you leaving?" His voice is laced with something that sounds an awful lot like disgust. It slinks toward me and I swear, it makes the wind around us more thick and more foul than it already is.

"What?" My head jerks up.

"My dad said he put in a good word with those brits and you got the scholarship thing you wanted so bad, so when are you jettin' out?"

"Your dad... he helped me?"

"Yeah, so.."

"I didn't know." I start to fidget myself wondering how I can say it, wondering more so if I even can.

"Edward, that's kind of the thing," I close my eyes and search for the right words. Even though I've thought about telling Edward this since the minute I found out, I hadn't quite figured out what I was going to say. "I'm not going."

"What? Why not? For goodness sakes Bella, it's all you could fucking talk about it. It was what you lived for. What the hell? I don't get it, why are you not taking it now? Why are you not going?"

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I hold up my hands in surrender. "Edward, um, I just have a few things to say to you, so—uh, can you please just hear me out? Don't leave... okay? Don't storm off. I just—I just need for you to listen to me. Calmly. Alright?"

He shakes his head, "I don't like the sound of this, Bella. I'm not making any promises. Just say it."

A few raindrops fall around us. The sky turns darker, a constant shadow looming over us. I lock my fingers together and bow my head, I don't have the dignity to say this to his face.

"What I am about to say, I'm not telling you this to try and change your mind about leaving but..I'm scared, Edward. And no matter what, whether you still leave or not, I'm keeping it."

He's silent for too long, so I force my eyes up. His face is even paler than it was before. His lips blending in, gone. His eyes... so cold.

"What did you say?" Words laced with venom.

"I know, I know. It doesn't seem real. Sometimes it doesn't feel real either. But it is. So don't hate me... please don't hate me for loving you, Edward. I did... I do. This baby doesn't change that. I.."

"Are you saying you're fucking pregnant, Bella?"

I close my eyes, now afraid to look at him. As my tears sneak through. I nod.

"You have got to be shitting me! Did my dad put you up to this? Did he make a deal with you? You get the scholarship and in the process you pin my ass to this town with a fucking kid?"

Shock swallows me whole. I choke. "What? N..nno! This is—this isn't a joke, Edward. I'm pregnant!"

The look he gives me is so hateful and sharp, I wince. "How are you so sure it's even mine?"

The rain falls harder, but I don't feel it. My skin numb. My heart open and bare, bleeding out. My soul, crumbling. Shredding.

He brushes past me, our shoulders barely touching as he storms by. "I'm out of here, this is fucking ridiculous."

"Edward.." I don't know why I say his name. A last ditch effort I suppose.

I wait, suspended in disbelief, wanting this all to be a bad dream.

Yet, knowing it isn't, the hurt just builds—intensifies. Consumes me.

His hard steps approach me from behind, closer and louder. I feel him standing behind me. The rain pelting off him and splashing me.

"Do yourself a favor," his voice is too calm, too controlled. "You should get rid of it Bella. Go to England, get out of this damn town and forget all about us, forget about me. You don't fucking love me Bella, you don't even know me."

Then he's gone.

I hear his car door open.

Rage overtakes sorrow, "I don't need you Edward, so you can go straight to Hell!" I spin around and shout at him.

He stops and looks over his open door, "No thanks, I've already been there. Matter of fact, I'm leaving there now."

His tires spin and squeal as he peels off on the slick road.

Before I realize it, I'm on my ass on the ground and the clouds open up and spill their contents all around me. Heavy, fat raindrops. A downpour.

When I look upward, it's like the world is crying with me. The trees, the lamp posts, the traffic signs. The sky and the heavens.

We weep.

Alone and together.

Again.

_**"The soul would have no rainbow, had the eyes no tears." ~John Vance Cheney**_

* * *

Trust.

I'm thinking SHORTER but quicker updates... Deal?


End file.
